Operation: Stuckeyville
by heymamawolf
Summary: After Sydney and Vaughn's covers have been compromised, they seek refuge in small town with our favorite bowling alley lawyer.
1. I'll Be Coming Home Next Year

Author: littlepinkstar

Disclaimer: Neither Ed nor Alias belong to me. Which kind of sucks when you come to think of it…

Rating: PG-13, bordering on R for language, but it shouldn't be too bad. No explicit sexuality or any stuff like that…it is set in Stuckeyville after all…

  
Summary: After Sydney and Vaughn's covers have been compromised, they seek refuge in small town with our favorite bowling alley lawyer. 

Distribution: SD-1.com

Authors Note: This first chapter is kind of lame, so I guess I'll have to see what you all think. I definitely have to work out some kinks in the plot. It's meant to be a humorous fic, but we'll have to see how that turns out. More of the tension will be eased when they get to Stuckeyville. But yeah, just as a sidenote: SD-6 is currently on lockdown and Sydney and Vaughn need to leave until it, and all of its relations, have been completely eradicated. For safety measures of course…Of course…

****

Chapter One - I'll Be Coming Home Next Year  
  
_Sydney's Point of View_  
  
"Syd, we have to get out of here. Now."   
  
"But what about Will and Francie...and Dad? What about my Dad, Vaughn? His cover has been compromised too and there's no way that I'm just going to leave him and my friends here, in danger."   
  
How could I have been so stupid? I don't know how it happened...to tell you the truth, I don't even know what really happened to begin with. All I remember is seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. I saw the end of Spy Sydney's life, and I got greedy and sprinted towards it. I was reckless. I got overexcited. I've never done something so incredibly stupid in my life.   
  
It was so uncharacteristic of me. But then again, I always suprise myself when it comes to him. We were _there_. In Credit Dauphine, that is. We being me and Vaughn. We were ready to shut it down for good. To start the life we both wanted...together. He played it cool...I slipped up. How often do I find myself saying _that_??  
  
The truth of the matter is that because of my careless actions, we're both in deep sh-t. Vaughn's life is in danger, my life is in even graver danger. And now, Dad's life is in even greater danger. And now we have to leave.   
  
Leave our whole world behind? I don't think so.   
  
Scratch that.   
  
HELL NO.   
  
"Sydney, I understand why you're worried..."   
  
"No you aren't Vaughn, you have _no idea_...this is _my_ fault. I'm not going to leave and let my actions bring perfectly good people's lives down. If we're leaving, Will, Francie and my Dad are coming with us."   
  
"Don't you think it would be just a tad suspicious if everyone you are close with, and you suddenly disappear from LA, Syd? SD-6 knows. They _know_. But you know what? That doesn't matter. This operation can still be shut down. It'll be a little harder than it could have been, especially with you and me out of the picture, but the only way it can be done is by Jack. Jack needs to stay, and we need to leave. It won't be for long. Devlin's got an emergency operation in order and we should be able to come back within a few weeks..."   
  
"A few _weeks_?!"   
  
"Syd..."   
  
There he goes again. Furrowing those eyebrows. He's mastered the eyebrow furrow, he definately need to move on to another nervous tendency. Nail biting, perhaps?   
  
"No, don't _Syd_ me..."   
  
"Sydney!"   
  
Did he just snap at me?   
  
"I'm sorry, but you know this is our only option. You know more than anyone that Jack's our only hope now. We can't bring both of our strongest agents out of this. Yes, Jack's cover may have been comprimised, but at this point, that doesn't matter. The end is within reach, and we need to seize it before SD-6--"   
  
"Okay, Vaughn, okay."   
  
What's up with me? Since when do I, of all people, give in? I don't know. The man _does_ have a point. If this will bring down SD-6 for good...I have to go. That's the only role I can have in shutting it down now. I have to leave.   
  
He looks shocked. Probably as shocked as I am by the justification I just fabricated in my mind. Why does it always come down to me being with Vaughn, in the end? It used to be about Danny. About revenge. For fighting for what's right. And now, all I want more than anything in this world is to be with him. Without those tailored suits and files.   
  
Dirty children! Not in that way! Although it would be nice...  
  
I mean a normal life. Away from this world. Where it could just be me and him. And Donovan of course. And we could hang out with Will and Francie like normal people with normal lives and normal jobs and normal friends.   
  
Woah, way to much normalcy.   
  
"What?"   
  
"I said okay. Will Dad be safe?"  
  
"Of course he will, we've got it all worked out."   
  
"I want to know all the precautions that will be taken to guarantee his safety."   
  
"Not now, Syd, we really need to get moving...it really isn't safe for us to be in this city right now. I fill you in on the plane."   
  
"What about Will and Francie?"   
  
"If you really want, we can bring them where we're going. But we'll have to wait for awhile. Maybe a week or so...Just so that it doesn't arouse any more suspicion..."   
  
HA! As if me completely blowing my cover and disappearing without a trace isn't conspicuous as it is...  
  
"Will _they_ be protected?"   
  
"Of course they will."   
  
"What am I going to tell Francie?"   
  
"I know this will be hard, Syd, but we'll get through it. To tell you the truth, I don't know what you're going to do about Francie. But we have a week to figure it out, and until then, we've got Will to cover for you."   
  
Oh God. How could I do this?   
  
How could I f---ing do this?  
  
And why in the hell do I feel excited to be whisked away by Vaughn? My friends and family all have their lives hanging in the balance, and yeah, I may seem like I care deeply for their lives but...  
  
If you got to be whisked away by a certain green-eyed handler, despite the dangers, wouldn't you be even the littlest bit excited?   
  
Yeah, I thought so.   
  
No! _This_ isn't me. I don't get excited when my _friends could die_. When I screw up the most important mission of my life. What the Hell has happened to me?   
  
I'm so confused. And frustrated. And extremely angry.   
  
What the Hell?  
  
What. The. Hell.   
  
"Where are we going?" I think I hide my excitement pretty well. All these years of espionage come down to this moment. How pathetic.   
  
"Stuckeyville."   
  
My jaw drops to the grown and I fight back the urge to break out into a fit of hysterics. Now's not the time. Now's not the place.   
  
"Stuckey-what?!"  
  
Vaughn shook his head and waved his hand in my face. Ha, never in my life would I expect to see Vaughn do a John Cage mannerism. What? I don't look like an Ally Junkie to you?   
  
He reaches back and picks up to plane tickets and hands one to me.   
  
"Trust me. This is probably the most secure place we can go. I'll explain everything to you on the plane. Meet at the hanger by the docks in an hour. We'll deal with the Francie and Will situation on the plane."   
  
My face turns serious. I really don't know how. I definately didn't tell it to. It must be that natural mechanism I have that knows when to be serious and when not to act like a giddy, hormonal teenager.   
  
"I'll be there in an hour."   
  
I look down at the ticket. Stuckeyville, Ohio. He's right, this would be the last place anyone would ever look. Quite frankly, I don't think it actually exists...  
  
"And Syd," he looks up at me with those big green puppy dog eyes. This man is amazing. Amazing.   
  
"Be careful."   
  
Our eyes meet. I know he mean's more than a simple "be careful." But there's no need to elaborate. Not now. But there'll be time for that later.   
  
And God knows I'll be waiting.   
  
**END CHAPTER ONE**


	2. Moment in the Sun

****

Chapter Two - Moment in the Sun

[Title from the one time Ed theme, "Moment in the Sun" by Clem Snide.]

__

Vaughn's Point of View

"Wait, let me get this straight…" 

What more is there to get straight? We're on our way to Stuckeyville, Ohio -- _the _Smalltown USA if there ever was one. The last place SD-6 would ever, and I really mean _ever_ consider searching. I doubt they even know it exists. In all honesty, no one knows it exists except for the people who live there, and those who may have friends there. Like me. 

  
"We're going to Stuckeyville, Ohio and we'll stay with a _friend _of yours_ from college_?!" 

Yeah, she thinks I'm crazy. I should probably clarify right about now instead of staring at the floor, looking defeated, like I always do. I think I can, I think I can…

"Relax, Syd, this isn't as insane as you may think it is." It really isn't! She's blowing this _way _out of proportion…"He's ex-CIA and it's the most secure place we could find." 

"Ha. Now _that's_ funny."

"Sydney, listen to me. This really is the safest place we could possibly go. You just have to trust me on this one. And it's not like it was my final decision to make…Devlin and even your father spend a long time figuring out what they should do, and _this_ is what they decided on." 

"My _father_? _He_ had a say in this?" 

"Of course," I say with a hint of 'obviously, he'd so kick my ass if he didn't' in my voice. And it's true. Jack could kick my ass any day of the week. 

"So we're just supposed to stay in this Stuckey-town with no CIA backup or support until SD-6 is completely shut down? While my friends and family are still in LA within reach of Arvin Sloan's cohorts?"

"First of all, it's Stuckey_ville_. _Ville._" Why is that so hard for people to comprehend. Stuck-ey-ville. "Secondly, Why are you under the impression that Sloane is still in control? Yeah, we may have screwed up, but it didn't completely ruin the mission. Sloane is in CIA custody. Jack is dealing with SD-6 right now, and in order to not raise suspicions, we needed to get out of there. We don't know what information may have been sent to the Alliance through the chip in that man's neck. This is safest way. If Will and Francie's lives are really in danger, the we'll take care of it. Trust me." 

"Sloane is in CIA custody?!" 

Holy sh-t. Didn't I tell her? I so told her…

"Why the Hell didn't you tell me?!" 

Sh-t. 

"I did--" 

"No, you _so _did not." 

"But I did--"

"Vaughn, I'm not going to play this game with you. If Sloane is in our custody, why am I here? I can be back there, working to bring down SD-6 for good. Fixing the complications that _I_ made."

"They weren't your fault." They really weren't. Sometimes she seems to forget that she too is human, just like the rest of us. Everyone makes mistakes. Yeah, that might have been the biggest mistake in the history of mistakes, but it was a mistake nonetheless. You deal with it and move on. 

"Yes, it was. There's no denying that fact. All I want to know is why I have to be shipped out when everything else could be so much easier if I stayed behind." 

"That's the thing, Syd." I swear, she never seems to catch the obvious, does she? "Yes, you are our strongest asset inside SD-6, but your cover has been blown. The rest of SD-6 might not have any clue about that, but Sloane does. And we don't know what Sloane's capabilities are at this point, despite the fact that he's in CIA custody. You're one of the best, and we can't afford to lose you. _I _can't afford to lose you." 

She slowly looks up at me. Something in her disposition has changed. It's like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders. Was that whole thing she just put up an act? I have a strange hunch that it might have been, but why would she do that? It makes no sense whatsoever. It's not Sydney Bristow's style. She's always all business, and is never _ever _fake. Especially when it comes to SD-6.

She's smiling. Not a bright, excited smile, but a relieved smile. Huh, funny. As if a weight has been lifted off of her shoulder, perhaps? Yeah, that's definitely it. She just needed some sort of verbal confirmation that she was doing the right thing. That's the only way she would have come without feeling guilty for doing the wrong thing. That _has_ to be it. 

She wants this little trip as much as I do, I just know it. She knew all along that everything was secure back home, and this was simply for precautionary measures. But she knows that I know her. And in any other situation, she wouldn't even be on this plane right now. She really wouldn't. 

"I know, Vaughn." 

She looks tired. She doesn't have to lie to me, I thought she knew that. This is probably not the time to bring it up. She looks so content. So happy. She knows its over. At least as far as she's concerned. But in her mind, she's supposed to be the one to take them down. With her own bare hands. And she slipped up. She slipped up, and deep down inside, she's happy for it. She's glad that she gets to have an early out of an operation that took years out of her life, and now she can finally be happy and normal. 

Ha! Normal. Who could ever live a normal life after the one we've led?

"Just think of it as an early vacation," I say, now smiling since the tension has been released from the air, "preceding the end of your life in espionage, of course." 

There it is! _That's _the smile I've waited so long to see. 

What has happened to me?! I sound like such an old man! What I mean, is that she doesn't look pained. She doesn't look tired. She doesn't look scared. She looks happy. Genuinely happy. And now she's laughing!

"What kind of a place is this _Stuckeyville_, anyway?" She says, putting her hair behind her ear. Some people's nervous mannerisms bug the Hell out of me, including my own. I mean, furrowing my eyebrows? I don't know why I do it. And I sure as Hell knows it's incredibly annoying. But hers? The way she lightly pulls her hair back, with a hint of shyness…but mainly confidence. It's like she knows she's the master of her nervous mannerism, and she's milking it for all it's worth. 

"Well, actually, like I said, I have a friend down there. Ed Stevens. I went to college with him in New York. He actually went through CST while he was going through law school. He decided law was what he wanted to pursue so he did. He stayed in New York, me and Weiss were transferred to LA, and the rest is history. You'll love him. He's quite a…character, I guess you could say…" 

No, Ed was far from a character. If I didn't know him, I'm fairly certain I'd think he was a crazy person. Seriously. Crazy as in Ozzy Ozzborne hopped up on 10 times the crack he's ever been on. That's how crazy he is. Okay, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration. 

"So he's actually a good person to go to if we needed to disguise ourselves and stay there for awhile? Will it really be safe for us to stay?" 

Now she looks a little uncertain. But not fake, hostile uncertainty, like before. It's like she doesn't want anything to ruin our venture into the normal world. Away from the bustle of the city and the dangers of being involved in "covert branches" of the government. Well, maybe I'm letting my own feelings cloud my assessment, but at this point, I don't care. I'm here with Sydney and that's all that matters. 

"Definitely. He was one of the most amazing agents in training our instructors had ever seen. He would have been incredible. Really. It's a shame he didn't follow through. But he actually had a lot of pressure from his father to join the CIA, and he really hated his father. So I guess going into law was sort of his way of rebelling against his overbearing Dad." 

"Really? Was his father also CIA?" 

I nod. Now that I think of it, Ed really has had an interesting life. You've got growing up in Stuckeyville. Going to college in New York City. Going through CST to join the CIA while he's in Law School. Quitting CST…becoming a lawyer. Moving back to Stuckeyville, and buying a bowling alley to win the affections of the girl of his dreams. 

Yeah, interesting is an understatement. 

Would I buy a bowling alley to win the affections of Sydney? Yeah, I probably would.

No, I _definitely_ would. 

  
Sometimes I wonder how me and Ed became such good friends, but now all my doubts are gone. We are really the same people. It's quite frightening…

"You'll really like this place, Syd. I just know it." I say smiling, as I look out the window as the clouds clear and the green countryside comes into view. 

She smiles. 

Did I mention how much I love that smile? Yeah, now that I think of it, I probably did. 

****

END CHAPTER TWO


	3. Everyone's Strapped in Tight, We'll Ride...

****

Chapter Three - Everyone's Strapped in Tight, We'll Ride it Out  
  
"Ed, why did you call us all here, again?" Molly asked, confused by her friend's behavior.   
  
"Yeah, and why is Stuckeybowl closed? I thought Friday nights were your money makers." Mike said, sitting down beside his wife, Nancy.   
  
Now Ed was really starting to raise suspicions. He was frantically running around the bowling alley, checking things -- but they didn't know what. Something was definitely up.   
  
"Eddie, you're starting to freak us out here," Nancy said, her voice full of concern.   
  
"Yeah," Carol started, sighing at her friend's display, "Ed, just sit down and tell us whatever you needed to tell us."   
  
Ed apparently finished doing whatever he was doing and looked around one last time before sitting down. He was on edge. It was as if he was trying to make sure that no one was listening in on their conversation or something.   
  
Who would spy on the Stuckeybowl?!  
  
"Okay, you guys..." Ed began nervously. He was unsure as to how his friends would react after they heard the news.   
  
"Ed, seriously, you're scaring us. Spit it out, man." Mike was really starting to get worried. He had never seen Ed so paranoid, and serious for that matter, in his life. _This_ certainly wasn't Ed...  
  
"I haven't been completely truthful with you all...Well, it's not that I haven't been truthful but I just haven't _shared_ everything about my past, I guess you could say..."   
  
"What are you talking about?" Carol asked, suspicious of what Ed had to say.  
  
_I just have to spit it out. SPIT. IT. OUT. Yes. You need their help. Mike needs their help._ Ed urged himself strongly. It wasn't about him, at this point, it was about Mike and his agent. _I know they're just coming to play it safe, but they need covers. And I need help in figuring this out. Let's just hope they'll be able to handle this..._   
  
"When I was in law school in New York...I was also enrolled in the CIA."   
  
Silence followed Ed's words, then all of a sudden, the air of Stuckeybowl was thick with laughter.   
  
"Yeah right! _You_?! Ed Stevens, the bowling alley lawyer, was a CIA agent. That's a good one!" Nancy said, practically falling to the floor in laughter.   
  
Ed immediately looked up, shocked at his friends, who clearly found his life so incredibly amusing.   
  
"What?!"   
  
"Ed," Mike said, wiping the tears from his eyes, and standing up to put a hand on his shoulder, "there's no way we'd ever believe that. No way!"   
  
"Yeah, Ed, he's definitely right. I don't know what you're trying to pull, but it is hilarious. I'll give that to you." Carol said, calming herself as she, too, wiped the tears from her eyes.   
  
The laughing slowly died down as Mike, Molly, Carol and Nancy watched Ed's face take on an even more hardened expression.   
  
He was serious.   
  
"What?" Mike asked, suddenly sounding hurt as he sat back down. "You were CIA?"   
  
"Why didn't you tell us?" Molly shot, angrily. "After all these years, _why didn't you tell us_?"  
  
Carol and Nancy were in too much shock to talk, but they too looked betrayed and hurt. Ed sighed.   
  
_Maybe I could have gone about this in some other way..._  
  
"You guys, life in the CIA isn't like the real world. I wasn't allowed to tell anyone about what I'd done, and if I stayed, I wouldn't have been able to tell anyone about my real job."  
  
"Why did you join to begin with?" Carol inquired, intrigued.   
  
"And better yet, why did you quit?" Nancy finally picked her jaw up off the floor and was able to contribute to the conversation. Ed looked down at the ground, unsure if he should really reveal all the lies that had made up his family's life.   
  
"I joined because my father wanted me to. He had a legacy at the CIA that he wanted me to carry through to the next generation."   
  
"But you're Dad was a banker," Mike replied, confused, "wasn't he?"   
  
Ed looked up to Mike and sadly shook his head. Mike looked genuinely shocked. The man who he always thought of as his best friend, the man he thought he knew everything about, was actually a fraud.   
  
"My dad _said_ he was a banker, but he was actually a field agent for the CIA. Do you remember how he was never around for anything when we were younger? How he was always on his _business_ trips? That's why I quit the CIA. At first, I was dying for his approval, so I joined. I had fun...I actually considered going through with it. But towards the end of CST--"   
  
"CST?" Molly asked.   
  
"Clandestine Service Training," Ed answered, turning to Molly, "it's like a CIA agent training course. They teach you everything you need to know to pursue a life in the CIA or even espionage."  
  
"Oh," Molly replied, barely above a whisper. Everyone was riveted by this new side of Ed that they were just learning about.   
  
"Well, I quit because I knew what my life would be like. I saw it played out through my father. I saw how his relationships were strained with his friends, his family...everyone. I just didn't want a life like that. So I asked them if I could get out of it, and go through with law school. They cut me some slack because they held my Dad in high regards. Usually, they wouldn't let someone out so easily, but I guess I was just lucky..."   
  
Mike now had his hands covering his face. _This is unbelievable._ Mike thought. _How could he keep this from us for so long? But it really isn't his fault, is it? I know Ed. He's not the kind of guy who would keep this from his best friends. This must have been really serious...and there must be a reason why he's telling us this..._  
  
"Ed, why are you telling us this?" The words came out harsher than Mike wanted. He kept telling himself over and over that there really was no reason to be angry with Ed. None whatsoever. He had to do what he had to do...  
  
Ed flinched at his best friend's tone.   
  
_This wound will take awhile to heal._ Ed thought as he tried to figure out a way to make them understand.   
  
"This isn't about me. I'm not telling you this just so you guys can feel angry and hurt and betrayed. I'm telling you this because I have a close friend who needs help. And the only way I can give it to him is by telling you guys. You guys are my best friends and I need your help here, but I don't want to go on if you're mad at me. I was in a situation where the things that I was taking part in were classified. I wasn't allowed to reveal _anything_. And I'm still not allowed. So, _please_ don't speak a word of this outside this bowling alley. Or around anyone else for that matter."   
  
"Of course, Ed." Nancy said, sympathetically.   
  
"You know you can always trust us," Molly added, looking up at Ed with a sad smile. Carol just nodded her head, but Mike, on the other hand, kept his eyes on the ground.   
  
"Mike?" Ed asked, praying that he wasn't too angry.   
  
Mike looked up and nodded. No smile, just a nod. But that's all Ed needed. A grin quickly spread across Ed's face, and he sat down, relieved.   
  
"Thank God," he breathed.   
  
"So, wait, what about your friend that's in trouble?" Carol asked instantly.   
  
"Well, here's the deal. In college, I had a good friend -- Michael Vaughn. He very well could have been my best friend in college, come to think of it. His dad was also a CIA agent. What are the chances, right? But yeah, we joined CST together and when I quit and he finished CST, he was transferred to LA. I keep in touch a little bit now, but not as much as we'd like. He called me this morning. He's a handler now--"   
  
"What's a handler?" Molly asked, failing to mask her giddiness. Nothing this exciting had come to Stuckeyville in awhile. No, nothing this exciting had _ever_ come to Stuckeyville.   
  
"A handler is basically a guy who is in charge of another agent, a double agent in particular. Him and his double agent, Sydney Bristow, are working to infiltrate this organization called SD-6. They carry out extortion, weapons sales, and all that kind of stuff -- posing as the CIA. They've been working for a pretty long time at bringing this organization down, and apparently, something happened towards the end, and their covers were blown."   
  
"What? How?!" Nancy wondered, also swept away by the secret spy world Ed was a tiny part of.   
  
"I don't know how. All I know is that they are coming here because they need a place to lay low for a little while. Where SD-6 won't think about looking. They aren't really in danger -- this is all for precautionary reasons. So there's no reason to be worried."   
  
"How do we fit into all of this?" Mike asked, interested.   
  
"Excellent question, my good man. They're probably going to be around for a few weeks or so. They'll stay at my place at first, but I was hoping that we could help them find a place."   
  
"Of course!" Nancy responded, eagerly.  
  
"Awesome, awesome." Ed said as he got up and began to pace.   
  
"Now they will also need some sort of cover. I was hoping Sydney could get a spot as a substitute teacher at Stuckeyville High," Ed added, pointing to Molly, "and that's where you, my dear Molly, come into the picture."   
  
"Gotcha. I've got it covered." Molly replied with a smile.   
  
"What about your friend?" Carol asked. "Michael...Vaughn was it?"   
  
Ed laughed and shook his head.   
  
"He can just hang out with me."   
  
"Or, and this is just a suggestion, he could also sub, if you really wanted." Carol suggested.   
  
"Yeah, I guess. But I'm not sure if he'll want to be at the same school as--"   
  
Suddenly the door to Stuckeybowl flew open and a fairly tall man with short brown hair, wearing a neatly trimmed navy blue suit, white shirt, and a dark tie walked through the door. Carol, Molly and Nancy all gasped slightly as this wondrous specimen of man walked towards them. Following right behind him was who they presumed was Sydney Bristow. Ed turned around and smiled, nodding his head towards him.   
  
"Ed Stevens," Vaughn said, shaking his head in wonder, "how've you been, buddy?"  
  
Ed and Vaughn hugged each other briefly before Ed responded.   
  
"I'm great! And you must be Sydney," Ed said, reaching his hand out to Syd, with a bright smile. Sydney returned the gesture and shook his hand.   
  
"It's nice to meet you. Vaughn's only said good things about you."   
  
"Vaughn? Is that what their calling you these days?" Ed asked, jabbing Vaughn playfully.   
  
Vaughn shook his head, laughing.   
  
"That and 'Boy Scout'..."   
  
"Ah! So it stuck around! Excellent!" Ed laughed, then led Sydney and Vaughn towards his friends.   
  
"I guess I should introduce you to my friends...We're pretty much the life of Stuckeyville." Ed noted in a matter of fact tone.   
  
"Of course," Vaughn replied knowingly.   
  
"This is Nancy, Carol, Molly and Mike..."  
  
**END CHAPTER THREE**


	4. Times Like These You Learn to Lie Again

****

Chapter Four - Times Like These You Learn to [Lie] Again  
  
_It's times like these you learn to live again  
It's times like these you give and give again  
It's times like these you learn to love again  
It's times like these time and time again  
  
"Times Like These" Foo Fighters_  
  
[Sydney's POV]  
  
This town is just about the cutest place I have ever been in my life. EVER. I just know my time here will be exactly what I've needed. It's so small and adorable and...just plain cute. I love it. I can't wait to see it in the morning...  
  
Now this Ed guy? He sound's like a riot. Vaughn's been ranting and raving about him ever since the plane. He better be as great as he says because he's hyping this man up almost as much as they hyped up all four of the Rocky sequels. And we all know how that turned out. Yes, I'm talking about Tommy Gunn and a fifty year old Rocky duking it out in a street fight.   
  
I'm such a loser, I know.   
  
Apparently, Ed owns this bowling alley. He practices law out of a place called "Stuckeybowl."   
  
Wow, what a creative name. Sometimes you have to step back and appreciate the wonder that is the human imagination. It's mind boggling, really.   
  
Anyway, even the bowling alley is cute! I really can't get enough of this town. And I've only been here for like half an hour!  
  
"Are you sure he's going to be there?" I ask Vaughn, who looks like a kid in a candy shop, reaffirming my idea that this Ed must really be something.   
  
"Yeah, don't worry about it. I called him earlier and we arranged it all." He says as he pulls the keys out of the ignition and unlocks the doors.   
  
It looks like it's closed...The lights are off, but there are still a few cars in the parking lot. You know what? I've decided it, right here, right now. I wish I grew up here. This is almost as cute as 'Stars Hollow' in Gilmore Girls. But then again, Stars Hollow doesn't exist, but Stuckeyville does.   
  
Note to Self: Look into this 'Stars Hollow' place in Connecticut. And possibly any Gilmore girls that may live there.   
  
We're walking in and I can't help but grin. Vaughn can hardly contain himself and its adorable. I've never seen him so laid back and relaxed...  
  
There's two guys and three girls. Must be Ed's friends, and--My, my. _That_ must be Ed.   
  
"Ed Stevens. How've you been, buddy?" Now he's in state of euphoria beyond simply a kid in a candy shop. He's a 14 year old boy with a room full of Playboys. And that, my friend, is pretty damn happy.   
  
"I'm great! And you must be Sydney," Ed says, putting his hand out for me to shake. Even the men here are adorable. I shake his hand politely and return the smile he gave me so graciously.   
  
"It's nice to meet you. Vaughn's only said good things about you." Ha! _Good_ things? It's more on the side of worshipping.   
  
I don't think I've seen bluer eyes in my life...Definately a tie between him and Will. But Ed's got something Will doesn't. The killer dark hair blue eyes combo. Gets a girl everytime.   
  
I know what you're thinking: "You're madly in love with Michael Vaughn, Sydney! How could you possibly think this Ed guy is attractive?!"   
  
And here's my response: There's enough Sydney Bristow to go around, boys.   
  
Gotta stop zoning out and start paying attention.   
  
"...I should introduce you to my friends. We're pretty much the life of Stuckeyville."   
  
Holy crap. Even his friends are adorable!   
  
"Of course." I seriously can't get over how excited Vaughn is! He's _loving_ this!  
  
"This is Nancy, Carol, Molly and Mike...And this is Michael Vaughn," Ed's introducing Vaughn and now, like the gentleman he is, Vaughn's shaking all of their hands. I laugh to myself as all the girls are practically drooling over themselves. I can't blame them, Vaughn is bangable. Period.   
  
Okay, fine, I can blame them. Is she _flirting_ with him? She's so not flirting with my Vaughn. Whoa, since when did he become _my_ Vaughn? That's beside the point. All I know is that I suddenly have the urge to kick the blonde one -- Carol, I think it is -- in the face. And you know why. I'm giving her a look as I move up beside Vaughn. I think she got the point...I could so kick her ass. But then again, who's ass _couldn't_ I kick?   
  
Now I'm shaking everyone's hands...nothing new. A whole lot of Hi's, Hello's, and Get Your Hands Off Of My Hand You Filthy Bitch's. Same old, same old. After going through, I've decided they are still adorable. Despite Goldie Locks over there.   
  
"So what's it like to be in the CIA?" Nancy, I think it is, suddenly asks. I'm shocked. No, beyond shocked. I come here to leave my old life behind, just for awhile, and this is just a rude awakening. Why the Hell does she know?!  
  
I immediately shoot a glare at Vaughn who has already conveyed my message to Ed.   
  
"What??" Ed responds, jokingly.   
  
"Ed, this isn't funny. This is matter of life and death...You can't just go around telling people that you're having two CIA agents 'stay with you for awhile.' This is classified, and even though we're doing it to play it safe, we don't know what SD-6's capabilities are..."   
  
"I'm sorry--"   
  
Me, Vaughn and Ed automatically turn to Nancy to assure her that it wasn't her fault.   
  
It really wasn't. It was all Ed's.   
  
"Relax, Mike, I know," Ed says becoming serious.   
  
"No, I don't think you do," I speak up, suprising everyone with my tone. I'm not always the little girl next door I look like. They better learn that now instead of the hard way.   
  
"Syd..." Vaughn now facing me directly, and has lower his tone and octave. I really don't know how he does this to me...  
  
"Vaughn, I don't want to--"   
  
I lower my voice so it's barely above a whisper. I can hear everyone lean in a little, trying to catch what I said. Vaughn's eyes lock with mine and my heart practically melts.   
  
"You won't." He says simply and confidently. I don't know how he's able to both read my mind and ease my soul at the same time. I swear, there's more to this man than meets the eye.   
  
I nod softly and look back up at him, then over to the rest of the gang, Ed in particular. Ed had his head bowed, and clearly felt bad for what he had done.   
  
"I'm sorry, Ed. If Vaughn trust's your judment, so do I."  
  
And it's the truth. Old habits are hard to kick -- I've never really trusted anyone right away, but I have no say in this matter. Vaughn knows this man very well, and definately better than I do. I trust Vaughn so I should trust Ed too.   
  
"--Plus, from what I hear, you were quite an agent..."   
  
With that he laughs and smiles up at me with those bright blue eyes. He shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders.   
  
"Yeah," he said sarcastically, then became serious once again, "but really, don't worry about it. You have every right not to trust me, especially after everything you've been through. I just want you to know that you really shouldn't have anything to fear, you'll be safe here."   
  
I look up at him, truly grateful. I smile warmly then nod my head in agreement.   
  
"I'm sure," I say, lightening my tone. "Oh God, I'm so sorry, I've probably freaked you guys out..."   
  
And I think I really did. They all looked completely and utterly shocked. Like I'm an alien or something...  
  
"Oh no," Goldie Locks says politely as she looks up at me. Okay, maybe she isn't _that_ bad. "We're all kind of in shock still...This is all just happening so fast."   
  
"Yeah, and that's mainly my fault." Ed says, stepping forward and motioning me and Vaughn towards two seats. "I shouldn't have popped this up on you guys so soon, but it's the only way I could go about it."   
  
"Enough with the apologies!" Molly said with a grin. "We have to figure out what we're going to do with you two!"   
  
"Oh, yeah, definately." Nancy added, speaking up. "The town is always abuzz when someone new comes."   
  
"Yeah, the first few days will be a little tough, but I'm sure you'll fit right in," Goldie--uh, I mean, Carol, said sweetly.   
  
I smiled at them. Not a fake smile. Not a sympathetic smile. A genuine smile. It's actually nice to not have to lie to people for once in my life. I guess I shouldn't get used to it, because it won't last for long...  
  
I can tell Vaughn is looking at me. I rarely smile on my own will, atleast when I'm with him. But whenever I do, he always makes me feel like I'm the most beautiful person on the face of the Earth. I look over at him, and he blushes slightly, then looks up at the rest of the gang. Molly and Carol exchanged a glance, but Ed started talking again before I could speak up.   
  
"Yeah, see, Molly here is the principle of our very own Stuckeyville High. Yes, the alma mater that I hold near and dear to my heart...especially seeing that I still hold the record time for chugging the largest tub of marinara sauce in the cafeteria to date."   
  
I can't help but laugh. It's shocking how easy I feel around these guys...  
  
"One minute 47 seconds, baby," Mike pipes in. "He came, he saw, he conquered."  
  
"Yes!" Ed exclaims pointing directly at Mike. "And that man right there is the first person I thanked. If it wasn't for his hard work and patience, I wouldn't have been able to conquer the tub."   
  
"Indeed." Mike replied smugly.   
  
Vaughn was beaming. His smile is so incredibly infectious...  
  
"Okay, as much as I really would love to relieve your glory days, Ed, I think we need to know what we're going to do. And I actually think that having all you guys in on it will make the whole process a lot easier. It's always better to have more heads involved in the planning. And I assume that Ed told you all that this information can't go beyond the six of us, right?"   
  
Vaughn really does shine when he gets to be in control of things. He's definately the kind of guy who I could see climbing the ranks of the CIA in only a few years...If it wasn't for me, of course. I'm just holding him back, I know, but I don't have to think about that right now. We aren't Sydney Bristow and Michael Vaughn anymore, we're Sydney Hanton and Michael Saunders. And that's good enough for me.   
  
I'm the one who asked if we could keep our own names. It makes the lies more bearable, I suppose. It's like I'm lying, but not truly lying. If that makes any sense, which it probably doesn't.   
  
"So, we were thinking Sydney could pose as a substitute at Stuckeyville High, right Molls?"  
  
~~~  
  
They were here for an hour. Sixty minutes and I already felt like I'd known them my whole life. Nancy, Molly and Carol are the sweetest people I have ever met. And Mike and Ed too. They are just so carefree and fun; they live the life I wish I could have and I envy them for it.   
  
And even though I didn't really like Carol at first, she's really growing on me. There's something about her that's just so down to earth and...familiar, I guess. Maybe the fact that she undeniably loves Ed but can't muster up the courage to admit it to herself, let alone him? Sounds familiar, doesn't it? How, you ask, do I know all of this? Of course she didn't tell me. Let's just say my spy sense has been hard at work.   
  
So we basicall planned our covers the whole time. I'd sub for this Mrs. Smith woman who is actually on maternity leave and I'll teach English Lit Honors to Stuckeyville High Seniors. This will be the life I've always wanted. A teacher in a small town...with Michael Vaughn. Not having to worry about vengeance or protecting my friends from the evils of the world -- All I'll have to worry about is making it back from lunch in time for sixth period.   
  
Mike and Nancy left first. Apparently they left their daughter Sarah with the babysitter and didn't tell her they'd be out for so long. Those two are a riot. Seriously, if I had friends like _that_ during college, I never would have even considered joining SD-6.   
  
I mean, Mike _tried on Vaughn's gun holster_. I was dying! It was seriously hysterical. And when he broke out into Eminem?!  
  
_Fourty-Five Minutes Earlier:   
  
"Mike, give the man his holster back."   
  
"Ah, come on, Nanc, this kind of_ opportunity _comes_ once in a lifetime."  
  
_"No, you're_ not _going to do this, Mike. Not here, not now! I actually like these two and you're going to scare them away so just stop!"   
  
"Do it!" Ed exclaimed in the background, knowing full well of what his best friend was about to do.   
  
"The tribe has spoken, Nanc..."   
  
"God help us all..." Nancy sighed, and covered her eyes.   
  
"You better LOSE yourself in the MUSIC the MOMENT you OWN it, you better NEVER LET IT GO! You only get ONE SHOT, do not miss your chance to BLOW, this opportunity...comes...once...in a...life...time..." Mike trailed off as Nancy's stare literally burned a hole through his face and Ed stood giving him a standing ovation from behind the counter._  
  
Yeah, that was definately the highlight of my night. Mike's definately so white. And come to think of it, so is Eminem. So Mike is so white, he can't even rap like a white boy. Now that, my friend, is hysterical.   
  
"Hey, Syd," Vaughn called out from Ed's office, "you ready to go?"   
  
"I'm ready when you're ready." I call out, standing up and wiping the tiredness from my eyes. It had been a long day...even longer after having to deal with Will on the plane. Thankfully he understood, and despite the fact that he'd miss me, knew that this was the only option.   
  
"So you guys can stay at my place for awhile, until we figure out what to do about that situation," Ed said as he picked up his stuff and made his way toward the entrance of Stuckeybowl.   
  
"Sounds good," Vaughn replied as he held the door open for me. "And, again, I'm sorry for the hassle, man. It shouldn't be for too long though."   
  
"Oh, no problem, I really don't mind." Ed responded, smiling.   
  
How is he always so happy? I guess if I lived in Stuckeyville, Ohio where my biggest worry was waiting for a certain Goldie Locks high school teacher to admit her undying love to me, I'd be just as chipper as he is.   
  
I can't help but wonder what kind of stuff Vaughn and Ed pulled as college roommates back at Columbia. I would ask, but I'm pretty sure I can't keep my eyes open long enough to even get to the car...  
  
You'd think after all this time of travelling arond the world practically non-stop, I'd get used to the jet lag.   
  
I guess my body has already accustomed itself to living a normal life, huh?   
  
Did I ever mention how much I love this town?   
  
I tiredly get into the car, having zoned out everything that Vaughn and Ed said in the past few minutes.   
  
I think I dozed off the second I sat down because the next thing I remembered was waking up at Michael 'Saunders' side...  
  
**END CHAPTER FOUR**


	5. One Last Thing Before We Quit

****

Chapter Five - One Last Thing Before We Quit...  
  
_One last thing before I quit,  
I never wanted any more than  
I could fit into my head,  
I still remember every single word you said,  
And all the sh-t  
That somehow came along with it,  
Still, there's one thing that comforts me  
**Since I was always caged and now I'm free**  
  
"Monkey Wrench" Foo Fighters_  
  
[Vaughn's POV]  
  
She looks so peaceful when she sleeps. It's like she's in another world, and I guess she technically is. This isn't _her_ world. It's her idealized world, where close friends hang out at the local bowling alley. Which one of their friends happens to own and practice law out of. Yeah, that's definitely one crazy ass idealized world of hers.   
  
I can see it in her face even as she sleeps...she's happy. She's at peace with herself. And I'm glad because she sure as Hell deserves it.   
  
"Hey Mike," Ed calls from his car as he gets out, "you gonna join me or what?"   
  
I motion to him that she's asleep. Please God, don't let her wake up. Let her stay in whatever world she's in now, because I've never seen her happier...  
  
"Oh..." Ed says, lowering his voice as he approaches the car. I step out and open the back seat. Our bags are fairly large, but I hand them both to Ed. "Geez, bring enough?"   
  
"I don't just wake up looking this good...It takes time, effort, and a hell of a lot of accesories," I joke, patting him on the back.   
  
"Trust me, I know," he replies, shaking his head exaggeratedly, "I _was_ your roomate, in case you forgot after all these years..."   
  
It's so great to see him again. There's just something about him, and even his friends, that just feels so welcoming. I always feel like I'm at home, hanging out with my best friend when I'm around him.   
  
"You'll take care of her?" He asks, looking toward Sydney.   
  
I nod. I don't want to have to wake her up, she's had a long day. No, beyond long. This day was more than emotionally draining, but the last couple of hours were a nice way to relax. For awhile, I actually forgot that I was there with Sydney working out our covers because our lives depended on it...it was just me, Syd, Ed, Mike, Nancy, Molly, and Carol -- just hanging out.   
  
Carol. So _that_ was the Carol Ed had worshipped for so long. I guess nothing really became of his little stunt...except for the Stuckeybowl of course.   
  
She's gorgeous. I don't blame him for coming back to sweep her off her feet, despite the fact that he didn't. And by gorgeous I mean, above average. But let's be serious here, she's no Sydney Bristow. No one in this world is like Sydney Bristow.   
  
Speaking of which...I guess I should carry her in?   
  
No.   
  
It really is sad when the CIA has instilled such a fear happiness in one's heart.   
  
It's no big deal, I don't want to wake her up, so I'll bring her in myself.   
  
I reach down to unbuckle her seatbelt, and can't help but catch a whiff of her perfume. It's not the first time I've noticed it, but I guess having her face within inches of mine is a little distracting.   
  
How do I do this again? Slip a hand under her...?   
  
That sounds so wrong.   
  
_So_ wrong...  
  
But if the situation calls for it...  
  
No!   
  
I decide to play it safe and nudge her towards me. She sighs in her sleep and shifts her weight towards me.   
  
Perfect!   
  
I make sure I have her securely, then pick her up, making sure I don't let her head hit the roof.   
  
She's as light as a feather. And it's kind of sick, to tell you the truth. That someone this small and (yes I know this word so doesn't apply to her but I'm tired and have Sydney Bristow in my arms) dainty could be so deadly.   
  
I close the door of the car with my foot, and hear her mumble something in her sleep as she lies her head on my chest. There's no denying it, I'm in heaven.   
  
I have died and gone to heaven.   
  
A heaven called Stuckeyville.   
  
I walk toward the entrance to Ed's place and I feel her start to stir. She starts to speak in mumbled fragments, her eyes still closed.   
  
"Shhh," I say soothingly, bending my head so that it's hovering over her ear, "go back to sleep."   
  
She sighs once again and I feel her hand on my chest, right beside where her head is lying. I can't help but grin as I walk through the threshhold. I feel like we're newlyweds beginning our new life together.   
  
And when you think about it, we really are.   
  
Not newlyweds of course. But beginning our new lives together...Definitely.   
  
I maneuver my way through Ed's foyer and grab his attention.   
  
"Where should I put her?" I whisper, with a nervous excitment in my tone.   
  
"She looks pretty comfortable where she is," Ed replies with a devilish grin. I roll my eyes. I would come back with some sort of witty response, or better yet, smack him, but I can't. For obvious reasons. Instead I give him a 'comeon, jackass' look, and I think he gets the point.   
  
"You can put her up in my room," he says, laughing slightly. "Both rooms are up the stairs and to the right. You can't miss it."   
  
"No, we don't want to take your bed from you..." I reply immediately, not wanting to be a hassle.   
  
"First of all, you're my guests, it's fine. Second of all, I was thinking that the room would be for her only, but if you'll be _together_...make sure you change the sheets afterwards."   
  
I knew he'd do this. I so knew he'd do this. He knows the situation between me and Sydney, and unlike most, he thought it was funny. I guess he could afford to think it was funny, seeing that he wasn't risking his life everyday. But whatever, it was still nice to have someone to talk to about her. To laugh with and not feel like the weight of the world was on my shoulders. Not having to think about consequences or dangers...it was just her.   
  
Although he did get pretty creeped out after awhile and then made me stop immediately. He said that I was "taking this friendship a little too far"...  
  
I shake my head and turn toward the stairs. I'd give him the finger, but again, my hands are a bit preoccupied. He wouldn't care anyway. It would just fuel the fire, and I'm hot enough as it is.   
  
I walk up the stairs and into Ed's bedroom.   
  
It's a typical 'Ed Stevens' room. Pictures of his friends. Pictures of his family. Creepy plastic 'Yo Quiero Taco Bell' Dog action figures.   
  
He actually bothered to make the bed. Now _that_ is a suprise.   
  
I walk towards it, savoring the last seconds I have with Sydney Bristow in my arms. I look down at her peaceful form and decide right at that moment...   
  
Our 'vacation' from our lives will be rockin.   
  
Yeah, I just said rockin, get over it.   
  
As I lay her down onto the bed, and her head on the pillow, she suprises me as she grabs my arm.   
  
"Don't go." She says simply, her eyes shut.   
  
She's probably sleep talking. Just take her hand off your arm...  
  
It's not budging. Her eyes are opening...and a smile is creeping onto her face.   
  
"Don't go," she says again, softly.   
  
I smile. This is insane. I can't believe this is going on. And I can't believe my gut is still telling me to get the Hell out of that room.   
  
Who gives a sh-t if we actually do what the both of us want for once. We aren't under CIA surveillance. And when it really comes down to it, when we get back, SD-6 will have been shut down for good and we'll be able to actually live our lives with no restrictions. It wouldn't hurt to start a few weeks early...  
  
Still, my gut's telling me no...  
  
I let my hand brush against her face as I pull a strand of hair behind her ear.   
  
"It's been a long day, you should go to bed." I say, regretting the words right after they get out of my mouth.   
  
She looks disappointed. She closes her eyes and opens them once more, sleepily. I feel her hand rest on top of mine, and she takes a deep breath.   
  
"Please," she pleads, barely above a whisper. She looks so vulnerable. So desperate.   
  
"Alright." The word's out before I can even think about it.   
  
"But I have to go down and get my stuff to change..." I don't bother to continue because she's back in her state of slumber, now with a huge grin on her face. I stand up, and walk toward the door with a jump in my step.   
  
Agent Vaughn's gonna get some lovin' tonight, baby. Okay, maybe not physical lovin' but definately snugglin' lovin'. And everyone knows that snugglin' lovin' is better than no lovin' at all.   
  
"Hurry back," I hear her call, as she covers rustle.   
  
I must have had some sick grin glued to my face, because Ed called me on it the second I came down.   
  
"Is my little Mikey gonna get some lovin' tonight?" He asks jokingly as he arranges a pillow and blanket on the couch.   
  
I shrug my shoulders, and act like I don't know what he's talking about. I told you that we're so similar it's sick...  
  
I make my way towards my suitcase and Syd's and carry them up towards the stairs.   
  
"Mikey's gettin' some lovin'!" Ed calls out. I shake my head, but can't hide the smile that is breaking through my straight face. "See?! Go Mikey, go Mikey, go Mikey."  
  
You know your life is pathetic when a friend you haven't seen in years is churning the butter at the prospects of you "gettin' some lovin'."   
  
I put our stuff in Ed's room, then open up my bag quietly, pulling out a pair of sweatpants. I look over my shoulder, checking if Syd's asleep. She's out cold. Relieved that I won't have to undress under her watchful eyes, I unclip my empty gun holster and place is beside my bag. Then I untuck my shirt and unbotton it, thowing it ontop of my bag. Unbuckle my belt, unzip my pants, step out of them, while reaching for the sweats I just pulled out...   
  
"Ow-ow."   
  
WHAT THE HELL?! I jump and turn around, startled. I don't know how she does it, it's actually quite frightening. Her eyes are open -- drowsy, but open. And staring at me standing in front of her in my black boxers and white undershirt. I feel like the little boy in "Billy Madison" who pees in his pants during the field trip and everyone laughs at him. Except I don't have Adam Sandler here to back me up. And that's probably for the best, now that I think of it...  
  
"I always pictured you as a boxers kind of guy," she says with a grin. I turn around and slip the sweats on, not wanting her to catch the deep crimson my face has now turned.   
  
I walk towards the bed, still somewhat in shock of how far our relationship had come in the last day. Only yesterday I wasn't even allowed to look at her, let alone jump into bed with her. This was getting to be a bit overwhelming.   
  
"You've pictured me in my boxers?" I ask flirtatiously, as I sit down on the side of the bed.   
  
Hey, if she wants to go about it this way, I'm so game. Ladies Man Mike is alive and kickin'.   
  
"I've pictured you in lots of things..." she replies ambiguously, as her eyes close once again but the grin is still plastered on her face.   
  
Now _that_ isn't Syd talking. Maybe it's the beer she had earlier? What am I talking about...She had one at it was like a couple hours ago. She wants me. Score!   
  
"Ditto," I say simply, pulling the covers over me. I feel her inch her back towards me and she yawns tiredly, before speaking.   
  
"Good to know."   
  
There. She's out. I know it. She has to be!   
  
This isn't happening. This defininately isn't happening. I don't know what happened to us. We must be in some alternate universe, or in my dreams or something, but this right here? This doesn't happen between Michael Vaughn and Sydney Bristow.   
  
Wait. We aren't Michael Vaughn and Sydney Bristow, are we?   
  
We're Michael Saunders and Sydney Hanton now. And I guess that means this isn't as unbelieveable as it seems.   
  
I've had enough thinking. It's late, I'm tired, and I only have 8 or so hours to spend enjoying the incredible close proximity I am to her.   
  
I breathe in the scent of her shampoo.   
  
Mmm, fruity.   
  
Somehow, my hand finds itself on her hip and before I know it, I'm drifting off into sleep.   
  
Actually, I don't know if it's sleep or not, because that line that usually stands between dream and reality seems to be blurring...  
  
**END CHAPTER FIVE**


	6. Hey, Don't Let it Go to Waste

****

Chapter Six - Hey, Don't Let It Go To Waste  
  
_Will I find a believer  
Another one who believes  
Another one to deceive  
Over and over down on my knees  
If I get any closer  
And if you open up wide  
And if you let me inside  
On and on I've got nothing to hide  
On and on I've got nothing to hide  
  
"All My Life," Foo Fighters_  
  
[Syd's POV] - Saturday Morning  
  
Yeah, you'll definitely never guess who's lying beside me right now. Never in a million years. Okay, maybe you will seeing that I've been in Stuckeyville for what? One night? And knowing me, I don't intend to be branded as the town's new whore...  
  
It's Vaughn.   
  
I know, it was kind of a shocker to me at first, too. Waking up beside the one man you've dreamed about doing wildly amazing things to kind of makes a girl think she hasn't quite woken up yet, right? I think I'm still in shock -- no I'm _definitely_ still in shock. Especially seeing that I've been holding my breath for I don't know how long, afraid that he'll wake up. Or even worse -- that _I'll_ wake up.   
  
I've been desperately wracking my brain trying to figure out how I got myself into this wonderful predicament. But all I seem to remember is being tired...  
  
_Really tired_  
  
...I think I fell asleep in the car. But how did I get out then? Because I certainly don't remember being woken up and told to come inside...  
  
Wait, I think he carried me in...How sweet of him!   
  
Oh man, Sydney, don't let the giddy prepubescent girl within get out. Keep her restrained, for the love of God, keep her restrained!  
  
He definately carried me in. That smell...I distinctly remember that smell. The faint whiff of aftershave and cologne, but mainly that natural scent he seems to pull off so well. It's not normal for a man to naturally smell as good as he does, seriously.   
  
And then he brought me here. He was going to leave but I asked him to stay...  
  
I suddenly start giggling as I remember telling him that I've always seen him as a boxer kinda guy.   
  
What is this?! Sydney Bristow _does not_ giggle...  
  
Crap. He's moving. Damn it! It's the first time since I was like 15 when the giggles have felt the urge to surface. Why now?! Why here?!  
  
Please don't wake up, please don't wake up...  
  
He's turning...  
  
And yeah, I'm pretty sure I've died and gone to heaven.   
  
As he turns, he wraps his arm around me, as if he's done it everynight for the past ten years. It feels so natural, so right...  
  
I feel his steady breathing tickle my neck and I have the urge to let my muscles retract and succumb into a fit of hysterical laughter. Yeah, you probably think I'm high, and I'm starting to think the same thing. But whatever, I may be a double agent, but that doesn't mean I can't be ticklish...  
  
It takes all the power in my body to supress the giggles, once again. But alas, I have come out victorious.   
  
Syd: 1, Giggles: 0.   
  
Feeling pretty proud of my willpower, I turn my head to the side and let my eyes linger over his face. He really is amazing. I know I've thought it a million times over, but he really is. Even in all his sleepy glory. And he has just a hint of a stubble growing on his absolutely perfect face. I try to drag my eyes away from his flawless form, knowing full well that I don't want to be caught gawking at him first thing in the morning. Now that would be more than just creepy. Especially seeing that this look of utter stupidity doesn't seem like it wants to leave.  
  
Oh God, he's waking up.   
  
Turn away, Syd! Turn away!  
  
But I can't. He's just too incredibly adorable first thing in the morning. His face scrunches up as he yawns sleepily.   
  
Is it possible to want to f--- a guys hair? Because I would so do Vaughn's hair. And him for that matter, but thats another matter. His hair is pointing in every direction in the perfect degree of messiness. He is absolute perfection.  
  
I fight the urge to reach out and touch his face. To run my fingers along is defined jaw...Instead, I find a big grin growing on my face as his eyes slowly open and adjust to the room, then meet with mine.   
  
"Hey," I say softly as our incredible closeness becomes ever apparent. I feel the arm he has slung across me stir and my face suddenly heats up as his index finger traces the edge of my face, down to my chin, ever so lightly.   
  
"Hey, you," he replies, barely above a whisper.   
  
Yeah, I'm pretty sure I've turned into a pile of goop on the floor. I look away with a shy smile as my face reddens. He chuckles softly, then starts to yawn as he raises his arms above his head to stretch.   
  
Immediately, I miss the feeling of his arm wrapped around my body.   
  
"What time is it?" He asks, slowly sitting up in bed.   
  
I turn to my right and reach toward the alarm clock and bring it closer to me.   
  
"Ten," I say, burying my head back into my pillow. This is definately a dream and I don't plan on leaving this bed til I get some of him.   
  
Again, he laughs. He has a beautiful laugh...Authentic and exquisite. If I could make a CD with eighty straight minutes of it, I'd be more than one happy camper. I'd be a happy camper with a restraining order against me on the grounds of sheer and utter creepiness.   
  
I feel him toss a pillow on my head as he stands up. I pull the pillow away, laughing at his playful gesture. He walks toward his bag and pulls out a shaving kit, with a smile.   
  
"I call the bathroom," he says simply. It's funny how even the smallest, most meaningless comments can have the biggest impact.   
  
I'm pretty sure my "normal" life has began. And I'm loving every second of it.   
  
"Not if I get there first!" I reply with a devilish grin before I bolt out the door with Vaughn right on my heels.   
  
~~~  
  
"Okay, so this is our first real venture out into Stuckeyville. Our lives as Stuckeyvillians offically begin today." He says as we walk down the street of this gorgeous town.   
  
"That it does," I reply, soaking in the beautiful natural surroundings.  
  
"And your cover?"   
  
"Sydney Hanton, substitute teacher at Stuckeyville High. I'll be taking Mrs. Smith's Honors English Lit class while she's on maternity leave and I'm originally from Los Angeles, California."   
  
"Excellent," he says smiling as he holds the door to the bakery open for me. "So, you excited to finally put your years of grad school to the test?"   
  
"Actually, I don't know," I reply somewhat sadly. I can't help but feel a little angry when it comes to my dream of becoming a teacher. "All my life, I always wanted to become a teacher. I knew no matter what, _that's_ what I wanted to do. Now I'm not so sure."  
  
He stops in his tracks and turns to me.   
  
"What?" He looks shocked. And pretty disappointed.   
  
"Can you blame me? I mean, I had built up this image of my mother in my mind, and all I wanted until a few months ago, was to be that. To be her. Now..."   
  
I pause and laugh bitterly, making my way towards the line.   
  
"Syd, listen to me. Yeah, the memory of your mother may have been what inspired you to go in this direction, but it most definitely wasn't what made you do it. _You_ are, and always have been, in charge of you life. You set your own path and I don't see why that should change now. Regardless of what has happened."   
  
I can't help but smile.   
  
"Well, _Mr. Saunders_, you certainly have a point. But twenty seventeen and eighteen year olds?"  
  
He's laughing again. I have offically formed an unhealthy fatuation with that sound.  
  
"Good Luck," he says, grinning. He turns to look at me, then shakes his head in disbelief.   
  
"What?" I ask.   
  
"It's just that...Nothing." He trails off and looks at his feet, embarassed.  
  
"Come on," I say, tugging his sleeve slightly.   
  
He looks down at my hand on his arm and raises as eyebrow at me. I hope I'm able to hide the look of utter shock mixed with 'Let's Get It On' off my face. I think I do a pretty good job. I smile and roll my eyes as we take a step forward in line.   
  
"What? Is the 'No Touching' rule still in effect?" I have no clue how I get this flirty. I don't consider myself a flirt, and actually pride myself on my lack of flirtiness. But it's just too damn fun with him.   
  
"No," He responds immediatly, his hand brushing mine at our sides. Hmm, quick response -- good sign. "It's just takes a little time to adjust."   
  
As he finishes, he entwines his fingers with mine, looking intently at the menu all the while. What a tease.   
  
God, I just want to hug him. And kiss him. And like have like a million of his, like, babies.   
  
Sorry, I had to get that out. You know how it is.   
  
What the Hell...I'm here, he's here. He's pretty much opened himself up to me, and we all know that I've waited for this moment longer than anyone should have to. I'm in a new life, in a new town where I can partake in public displays of affection with the man that I truly and deeply love, without having to worry about risking our lives. I have a chance to start all over again, and I'm definately going to take advantage of it.   
  
After finally working up the courage, I let my free hand run over the back of his.   
  
Yeah, that was definately more than a spark. That was a freakin' forest fire. I would look to see his reaction but I'm too fascinated with our entangled fingers. I've known this man for two years and I haven't even held his hand. Yeah, we may not have been a couple in the literal hugging, kissing, sex having, and seeing each other in public sense, but to tell you the truth, a part of me has always seen him as my boyfriend...  
  
Wow, I have no clue what drugs I'm hopped up on, but it is certainly some crazy sh-t.   
  
"Hey," I feel him nudge me slightly then motion to the coffee guy.   
  
"Oh!" I reply, embarrassed for spacing out. "Tall Mocha, please."   
  
"What were you thinking about?" _Michael_ whispers in my ear as he pulls out some dollar bills from his wallet.   
  
"You," I whisper back.   
  
Ha, I bet he didn't expect that one.  
  
~~~  
  
[Carol's POV]   
  
"So what do you think of Sydney and Michael?" Molly asks excitedly, leaning over the table closer to me.   
  
And I don't blame her for being excited. This is the biggest thing to come to Stuckeyville since sliced bread. Wait, come to think of it, sliced bread is actually a pretty recent luxury for us.   
  
"They're sweet," I reply nonchalantly. And they really are. Okay they are absolutely adorable and incredibly gorgous...They are two of the best looking people I've ever seen in my life. If everyone in LA looks like that, I'm catching the next flight over and never coming back.   
  
"Yeah, it's hard to believe that they do what they do...ya know?"  
  
Yeah, I know. Kind of like how it's hard to believe that Ed did what he did without telling us? How he lived a lie for all these years?   
  
"But You want to know what I want to find out about?" Is Molly still talking?   
  
"What?" I reply, trying to sound tired of the subject.  
  
"What the deal is with the two of them...There's obviously something between them. I wonder if they had some sort of illicit covert affair. Where they had to hide it from everyone, including their friends, because if they were caught, they'd be fired. Or worse -- killed." Molly is so incredibly overly dramatic. I restrain my violent laughter...or maybe not...  
  
"What?" She asks, still smiling.   
  
"Molly, that kind of stuff doesn't happen in the real world." I say shaking my head.   
  
But then again, you never know. Ed _was_ practically a CIA agent, his father was a CIA agent...And we never ever knew about it. Things aren't always as they seem.   
  
I don't quite understand why I'm so upset at him. It's not like I was really friends with him in high school, which means that Molly and Mike should probably be more mad than I am. But I can't help but wonder...Would he have told me about it if we actually became a couple?   
  
What am I talking about? It's Ed.   
  
Ed.   
  
The last guy in the world I want to be with. He's just too dopey and childish and cute and sweet and caring and smart and...  
  
He knows all of my insecurities and doesn't want any part of it anymore.   
  
Oh yeah, I forgot that part.   
  
"Are you saying you don't think there's something going on between those two?"   
  
"How am I supposed to know? Molls, these guys have been here for less than a day and we're already gossiping about them. Let's wait for a day or two...atleast."   
  
It's the truth! It really is sick how this town jumps all over the latest thing to hit it. In this case, Sydney is adorable. She's sweet, she's smart and I really like her. I can definately see me and her bonding over her time here. But there definitely is no denying her sketchy relationship with that "handler" of hers...  
  
Michael is hot. No, 'hot' doesn't adaquately convey how incredibly good looking that man is.   
  
All I know is that there's no way I could even pretend to flirt with him, because she'd so kick my ass. I swear I heard Sydney growl yesterday when Michael introduced himself to me. And I was just making conversation!   
  
Basically, the best looking man to come to Stuckeyville, who is clearly intellectually superior than all the men in this town combined, is off limits.   
  
How uncool.   
  
"I guess you're right...But did you not feel the sexual tension?!" Molly is in utter disbelief. "You could cut through it with a saw. It was insane!"  
  
I roll my eyes and sigh. This really is getting old fast.   
  
"Come on, Molls," I say, trying to fake sincerity. "Let's just leave them alone. If they want us to know what's going on with them, they'll tell us."   
  
"Sydney's so sweet though. We'll have to bring her under our wing. Then milk all the information about her hot as hell handler out of her."   
  
I fake smile at Molly, but she's too caught up in her own daydreams about who she saw as her "dream couple," so she doesn't really notice my change in emotion. I don't really know why I'm so angry right now. I usually love gossiping about people, no matter what. But in this case...They are just so clearly in love with each other...or maybe just lusting, I don't know. But that's beside the point. This might sound really concieted, but if I can't have the love of my life, no one else should either.   
  
Yeah, that actually sounds _really_ self centered, but hey, it's true.   
  
Now that I think of it, I'm not quite sure I'll ever have a love of my life. He was pretty much right under my nose for the past three years. He showed up to Stuckeyville dressed in armor for Godssakes. And I refused my chance at a fairytale romance with my knight in shining armor because of my own stupid cowardice. And now I'm alone and he doesn't want to be with me ever.  
  
Maybe thats exaggerating...  
  
No, definately not.   
  
"Well then, what about Michael? All I have to say is 'bow-chicka-bow-wow',"   
  
She's nudging me with her elbow and I swear my coffee almost comes out of my nose.   
  
"Yeah, I think that sums him up pretty well," I reply taking a napkin and wiping the coffee off my face.  
  
All I know is that these next few weeks are going to be very, very interesting.   
  
~~~  
  
[Syd's POV] - Saturday Evening  
  
Do you ever just sit back and wonder how the Hell you got to be so lucky? How you could be living a life of lies and deciet and danger and hatred where you can't even admit to loving someone because you're afriad it would get you both killed, to a life of even more lies...but truthful lies. Doesn't make sense, I know, but bear with me. A life with happiness, and joy, and...Stuckeyville.   
  
This town is amazing.   
  
Me and Vaughn...MICHAEL! Sorry, it seriously will take a lot of adjusting. Okay, so me and _Michael_ have basically been scoping out the town. Walking around, checking out the stores and everything.   
  
Now we're in the park. Just walking around...sitting on the benches and watching the birds...talking...  
  
It's amazing how much you can learn about someone by talking about the most pointless and useless things.   
  
"How can _that_ be your favorite movie?!" He asks incredulously, holding his temples in mock frustration.   
  
"It just is!" I reply laughing like a little schoolgirl. This feels nice. No, this feels like everything I have ever wanted and all the best moments of my life balled into one giant amalgamated mass of savory goodness.   
  
See? I'm so ecstatic that I'm rambling incessantly and making no sense.   
  
I love making no sense.   
  
"Okay, out of all the amazing movies that have come out over the years...The Matrix, Gladiator, A Beautiful Mind, Godfather, Shawshank Redemption, Schindler's List, Citizen Kane, Memento, The Usual Suspects, Taxi Driver, Fight Club, LA Confidential, Raging Bull, Harold and Maude, Saving Private Ryan, Almost Famous..."  
  
"Okay, okay! I get the point! Geez!" I smack his hands, where he keeps counting the movies he's listing. He laughs. He's really getting a kick out of this...  
  
"But 'Kate and Leopold'?!" He asked with his face all scrunched up. Now he's really exasperated; his hands are running through his hair and he looks exausted.   
  
"What??" I ask raising my arms in the air with a huge smile on my face. "It was a good movie!"   
  
"You've got to be kidding me. It's about a freakin GAP IN TIME by the BROOKLYN BRIDGE. A romantic comedy based on a TIME PORTAL."   
  
"See! You've obviously seen it so it can't be that bad!" I laugh, pointing a finger in his face. He rolls his eyes, and pushes my finger away from his face.   
  
"Hey, I was forced to go against my will." He leans back on the bench and lets his arms rest on the back of it.  
  
"But you still saw it," I say scooting backwards.   
  
"It was horrible. Period." He says shaking he head.   
  
"Favorite song?" I ask, turning to him.   
  
"Oh man, that's really tough. I never understood the concept of coming up with your favorite song. There are just too many out there."   
  
"Okay, fine, top five."   
  
He rolls his eyes. He is so incredibly sexy in that cute adorable teddy bear kind of way.   
  
Mental note: Look into making life size Michael Vaughn teddy bears/action figures/Ken dolls. They'd sell like hotcakes. HOTCAKES.  
  
"Okay, this is just off the top of my head..." This is the ultimate test! Let's see if he's been worth all of this heartache and pain and everything else...  
  
"Jeff Buckey, Lover You Should Have Come Over."   
  
"Excellent choice!" And it is. He was defintely worth it all. Either way, you know he was, but this makes him even more worth it all. Jeff Buckley?! Even, this man's taste in music is sexy.   
  
"U2, One. Bruce Springsteen, Born to Run. The Smiths, How Soon Is Now. Oasis, Don't Look Back In Anger."   
  
"Brilliant. That's all I can say. They are exquisite choices. You pass."   
  
"So there's a test to winning your affections, huh?" he asks as I sit back and rest my head on his arm.  
  
Seriously, _how did this happen to me?!_   
  
I don't think I've ever felt as much joy as I feel right now. This man is incredible. And I'm just sitting here. With him. It just feels so ordinary.   
  
But still incredibly unordinary.   
  
His arm is sliding down, around my shoulder, and he's pulling me closer to him. Somehow my head nestles itself in the crook of his neck. I take a deep breathe of his aftershave, and sigh contently.   
  
"What did we do to deserve this? How did this happen? How did we go from Agent Sydney Bristow and Agent Michael Vaughn to just Sydney and Michael?"   
  
I can't possibly convey the combination of confusion and utter happiness I feel right now. Everything is just so jumbled and overwhelming. Nothing makes sense to me anymore.  
  
"Shhh," he says, resting his head on top of mine. "Let's save all the real thinking til we're back in LA."   
  
"But it just doesn't make sense...How my horrible failure could lead to something so...amazing. And if we both wanted this so badly, why didn't we just do it sooner? Why couldn't we just have screwed the consequences and--"  
  
"Shhh," he says again, resting his finger on my lips this time.   
  
hominahominahominahominahominahominahominahominahomina  
  
My eyes are closing and I feel his finger drop from my lips as his face comes closer...  
  
Closer...  
  
"Hey, Mike!"   
  
Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.   
  
I'm still in a daze, but I can definitely see Michael shaking his head, and turning around to greet Ed.   
  
Damn this Ed Stevens! He has the absolute worst timing ever on the face of this Earth. EVER!  
  
Michael gets up to shake hands and talk. I hear bits and pieces...  
  
Sorry...Interrupt...Dinner...Goat...Carol  
  
But everything really zones out as I begin to replay the last two minutes over and over again in my mind.   
  
Mmmmmm, he smelled manly.   
  
And I thought I was a bumbling idiot before. I better get myself together and get up...  
  
"You up for dinner at the Smiling Goat with the gang?" Ed asks me, clearly amused by my state of emotional disarray. And horniness, but he can't see that.   
  
"Yeah, for sure!" I say cheerfully. Damn I'm good. No one can hide their emotions better than this one, dammit! NO ONE!  
  
"Great," he says, sticking some papers into his shoulder bag, "I have to head back to the house and change, but everyone'll be there by the time you get there. I already told Mikey here where it is, so I'll see you guys in a little while!"   
  
"Thanks man, we'll see ya there," Michael says, nodding in his direction.   
  
"Yeah," Ed replies, grinning like a fool and winking so incredibly conspicuously at Michael. He might as well scream, "you're so gonna get laid, MAN!"   
  
Because he is of course.   
  
Unless he doesn't want to.  
  
In which case, he still will.   
  
I turn back to Michael and rest my hand on his upper arm.   
  
"So..." I say slowly letting my hand travel up towards his face. Clearly implying that we should pick up where we left off. Yes, I'm a big fan of stating the obvious. He just laughs.   
  
"Why am I so incredibly funny to you?" I ask, laughing also. I told you, his really is contagious.   
  
"Syd, the moment's gone. Gone." He jokes, shaking his head in mock sadness, as he wrapped his arm around my waist.   
  
I just roll my eyes and sigh tiredly.   
  
"I just thought, what the Hell, I might as well try."   
  
"And I applaud your efforts," he says, practically beaming as we make our way up the hill and towards The Smiling Goat.   
  
It's been one day. And we have atleast thirty one to go.   
  
That's all I'm going to say.   
  
One. Freakin. Day.   
  
Atleast. Thirty. One. To. Go.   
  
Yeah, all the drama of that last line is gone. But it's not my fault! I literally _and_ figuratively am walking off into the sunset with the man of my dreams. And it feels damn good.   
  
**END CHAPTER SIX**


	7. Ain't it the Life?

****

Chapter Seven - Ain't it the Life?  
  
_Aint it the life?  
Got no crime.  
Just sail on by,  
Sail on by.  
  
"Ain't it the Life," Foo Fighters_  
  
[Vaughn's POV]   
  
I don't know how it got to be like this. I don't know what I did to deserve it. Sure, I've done good things in my life, but none of them warrant this. I'm really not worthy of the intense joy that I'm currently feeling, and I most definitely don't deserve the girl who has her fingers entwined in mine right now.   
  
Life isn't supposed to turn out like this. In the real world, the guy and the girl don't just end up together, despite all obstacles, and live their life happily ever after.   
  
So clearly, I'm in a fairy tale.   
  
Where restaurants are named The Smiling Goat. Where lawyers own and work out of bowling alleys. Where, opposed to popular belief, money _does_ grow on trees...  
  
...And, most importantly, where the guy _always_ gets the girl.   
  
"What are you thinking about?" She asks, reminding me once again, that I'm actually not in a dream and this is really happening. Okay, it could still be a dream, but...  
  
"This," I reply grinning. I seriously sound so dopey it's sick. She looks up at me as we stop in front of The Smiling Goat.   
  
"It's pretty nice, isn't it?" She's so incredibly stunning when she doesn't have a care in the world.   
  
"Nice? Nice is the Mets getting to .500. This right here? This is the Kings winning the Stanley Cup." I know, it's sad that the only way I can convey my emotions adequately is through sports analogies. Man, now that I think of it, I definitely should have just kept that one inside the head. I have to regulate my thoughts more carefully in this place. Clearly I'm taking in an unhealthy quantity of natural high inducing joy, which has rendered my judgement useless.   
  
She laughs as she walks through the door. I follow her with the goofy grin still stapled to my face.   
  
Yeah, definitely have to regulate the facial expressions too.   
  
"The Mets, huh? I never knew you were a fan."   
  
There's a lot you don't know about me, Sydney Bristow. And yes, I do mean Bristow, not Hanton.   
  
"What can I say, I've always been one for the underdogs. And after four years at Columbia plus my CST -- the Mets just won me over."   
  
"So Columbia, huh?" She asks, as we make our way towards the table across the room. "You'll definitely have to fill me in on what College-Michael was like..."   
  
I laugh. Yeah, right. There's not a snowman's chance in Hell that I'm going to tell her any of my stories from college. She might as well turn me over to the enemy so I can endure years and years of torture because I'm never letting any of those memories out of my conscience.   
  
"Uh-huh, sure."   
  
"What?" She asks with an evil glint in her eye. "Is there something you're hiding about your past, Michael?"   
  
"Nothing _you_ need to know." I say quickly.   
  
"You know I'll find out, right?"   
  
"Yeah."   
  
She will and there's not a doubt in my mind. I mean, with Ed around, she'll probably find out more than I ever wanted her to know in just five minutes with that guy.   
  
"Just wanted to make sure," she says turning her head towards me briefly.   
  
"Hey guys!"   
  
I look up to see Nancy, Molly, Carol and Mike, sitting around a fairly large round table. We make our way towards it, but there's definitely something fishy up. Mike just seems normal, but Molly and Nancy look way too excited. I'm actually a little frightened as to what they might have in mind...  
  
Then there's Carol. If I wasn't madly in love with Syd, and Ed with Carol, I'd so be in love with her. She's smart and funny and absolutely gorgeous...She's basically the high school prom queen who actually bothers to give dorks like me and Ed the time of day and just happens to be the nicest person you'll ever meet. And yes, I say this based on the hour or so I met her and the weeks worth of hours Ed has spent talking about her to me.   
  
But as I said before, she's certainly no Sydney Bristow.   
  
"Hey," I reply, greeting the gang. I pull a seat out for Sydney, then take my jacket off before sitting down in my own. I know, I'm quite the gentleman aren't I? At some point you just realize, it definitely is the small things that matter. Atleast to women. And yeah, awesome move on my part...Sydney's smiling and I could have sworn Nancy and Molly _and_ Carol just giggled. I'm definitely feeling like I'm in ninth grade again.  
  
"So what have you guys been up to during your first official day in our very own Stuckeyville?" Carol asks.   
  
I reach my arm toward's Sydney and let it rest on the back of her chair.   
  
"Well, I don't know...what _have_ we been up to, Syd?" She tilts her head towards me with a spirited expresson on her face, then shakes her head and turns to the girls and Mike.   
  
"You know what? We actually didn't really do anything. We kind of scoped out the town, walked around a little, but that was about it."   
  
Yeah, that and talk about every possible thing we could ever think of. I must say, I thoroughly enjoyed that. I've never been able to just talk to Syd. About things that every normal couple talks and jokes about. Favorite movie, favorite song, favorite food, first memory, first kiss...  
  
It takes all of my power to tear my eyes away from Sydney and look back at the rest of the guys. I nod in agreement as I pick up a menu.   
  
"Well that's good," Molly replies with a devilish grin.   
  
I swear I feel like a teenage boy having a secret relationship behind his mother's back. But really, why _is_ Molly so interested in me and Syd?!  
  
"So what did you guys think?" Nancy asks, genuinely interested.  
  
"Well, it's not _anything_ like LA, and trust me, that's a good thing," Syd responds with a laugh. That tone in her voice is surely something new. I don't think I've ever heard it before actually. The closest I got to it was during our tour of the town, but even then she seemed more quiet and...intimate, I guess. But now it's like she's known these people for years. It's amazing. _She's_ amazing.   
  
"You know, I've never actually been to LA," Carol piped in, "what's it like over there?"   
  
"Besides obscene amounts of traffic?" It's lame, I know, but I got a laugh out of Syd and that's all that matters. And don't even mention the possibility of it being a sympathy laugh. The peanut gallery over there seems pretty amused too, but I have a creepy feeling that they have a secret obsession with me and Sydney. Freaky.   
  
Syd shakes her head and nudges me.   
  
"He doesn't know what he's talking about..."   
  
"Says the woman who jogs to work and never has to worry about getting through morning _and_ evening rush hour." I've always dreamed about what it would feel like to just spend time with her, like this, just having fun and hanging out with friends. It's better than I ever could have imagined.   
  
"Alright, alright," she concedes with a smile.   
  
"Jogs to work? How can you jog to work?" Mike asks suddenly interested. I turn to Syd and raise my eyebrows, wondering if it would be alright to fill them in. She shrugs her shoulders then speaks up.   
  
"It's complicated." She says, shaking her head.   
  
Everything's complicated when it comes to us and I've learned to deal with it. But when we're here it's different. When she says something is complicated, they don't respond with "How so?" and they don't get suspicious. They just accept it and move on. Because that's how things are here.   
  
Mike nods his head, understanding what she means. It's nice to know that they understand when not to overstep their boundries. They are certainly our friends, and we're willing to tell them more about ourselves, but this isn't the time or place. And that's cool with them.   
  
"Okay, so back to LA. We've got traffic and lots of it. What else?" Carol asks excitedly.   
  
"Carol, you do realize you're a full grown woman and could very well just go to LA and find out for yourself, right?" Molly retorts.   
  
"Shut up, Molly," Carol responds.   
  
Syd grins and shakes her head.   
  
"What?" Carol asks, also smiling.   
  
"I know this will sound crazy," Syd starts, as she places her menu on the table. Nothing she could ever say would sound crazy. Nothing. "But you remind me so much of this friend I had in middle school. Cindy Wallace."   
  
"Really? Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Carol responds jokingly.   
  
"Oh no! Definitely a good thing! We were the best of friends, seriously. But then she moved away in the eigth grade and I never talked to her again...So it's actually kinda cool to meet someone so similar to her."   
  
Carol just smiles warmly at Syd. Yeah, I have a feeling these two will turn out to be quite the pair. It really is incredible to see Syd so at ease with her though. With them all, actually, but more so with Carol. I'm so used to seeing her with her guard up at all times, so it's all just a little strange. In a good way of course.   
  
"But yeah, in LA the weather is always great," I add in, "and coming from the northeast I can really appreciate it."  
  
"And the beaches are incredible." Syd notes.   
  
Mmmm, beaches. Mental image of Syd relaxing on a beach in a sky blue bikini. Reading Emma for the thousanth time, just enjoying the warm breeze against her skin. I sit down beside her, and she puts her book down, takes her sunglasses and sun hat off. She rests her head in the crook of my neck and we just sit there and watch the sunset before us. Treasuring the normalcy of it all.   
  
Kinda like now...  
  
Except replace the whole beach, book reading, Syd in a bikini and sunset thing to all of us sitting here on a pretty cold night in February with Syd wearing some sort of dark and light blue rugby shirt thing with dark jeans. Jeans that hug her hips _perfectly_. But then again, she could be wearing massive sweatpants and a smelly old t-shirt and I'd still think she was hot. But that's just me...   
  
Suddenly the ring of my cell brings me out of my thoughts.   
  
"Sorry about this guys," I say, pressing the "call" button. I can see the nervousness in Syd's eyes as I begin to push out of the table. She grips my wrist, signalling that she wants me to stay.  
  
"Vau--Hello?" Just one slip up and I get the death stare from Sydney. Like any of the people here care who I am, let alone know what my cover is! Everyone at the table is pretending to be looking intently at their menus, but the girls are sneaking glaces up whenever they can. Little do they know, I've caught on to their strange game.   
  
"You go whisk her off to some little town and you don't even bother to inform me as to whether you've gotten there safely and haven't been captured, or pehaps killed on your way east?"   
  
Weiss. Exactly who I wanted to talk to.   
  
"Nice to hear from you, too, Weiss." I reply sarcastically. With the sound of his name, Syd's head snaps up, causing the rest of the table's to also. I shoot a glace to their side of the table and they bury their heads in their menus once again.   
  
"Seriously, man, do you know how worried I've been about you guys?"   
  
"You're really exaggerating this, and you know it. It's not a big deal." And I'm so right. It's not like our lives really were in immediate danger. We were ordered to leave because of the _threat_. There's a huge difference between threat and definate possibility.   
  
"Well, I know, but I expected to atleast get a call or something. I was hurt."   
  
"Yeah. And I'm sure you used that 'hurt' as some sort of justification to hit the local bar and pick up a girl or two, right?"  
  
"Of course, of course." He laughs. What a drama queen. Or king rather. Hell, he's a drama royal court.   
  
"Really, though, what's up?" I ask in a hushed tone. These prying eyes and ears are becoming a little suspicious.  
  
"Nothing, I just wanted to make sure you two were okay, that's all."  
  
"Oh. Well, yeah, we're both fine. We're staying at Ed's place for now, until we deal with the whole housing issue. Which, by the way, would involve us getting an approximate time span for our time here..." Translation: How's the capture of SD-6 coming along?  
  
"As of now, im thinking a month to two months."   
  
"Two months?!" I exclaim. Yeah, too loud. I get another look from Syd, and probably from most of the people in the restaurant but I don't bother to look up. Somehow my free hand has made it's way to my temple and is rubbing it furiously. "What the Hell happened?!" I whisper harshly.   
  
"Relax, man. Devlin and Jack just decided that it would be best to regain the trust of the employees of SD-6. It would make it easier to bring about their ultimate downfall, and apparently, is the only way we can really approach this. And I know you really aren't angry, because there's not a doubt in my mind that you aren't living up your time alone with Sydney."   
  
"Well, maybe I am but that's beside the point. What's going to happen now?" There it is again. That paradoxical combination of emotions I feel whenever it comes down to this issue. I can't help but be ecstatic at the possibility of spending the next two months in this town with Sydney, but what about my friends and family? What about her friends and family?  
  
"Basically, we've got a lot of things going on. I can't really fill you in on them now, because a lot is still in the works and a lot is still classified. But I'll keep in touch with you, and you me, and I'll keep you updated. Until then, I've got the spare key to your place, but how often should I feed Donovan?"   
  
"Twice a day. You know where the food is, right?" Now I'm rubbing my forehead, and using every ounce of my being to keep my eyes away from Syd. I don't know how she's going to respond to this, but I have a feeling she might just be happy. Or extremely angry. She does tend to be a person of extremes...  
  
"Yeah, man. I'll let you get back to whatever you're doing. Just remember to keep in touch, okay?"   
  
"Yeah, sure." I respond. "And keep me informed if anything changes, alright?"   
  
"You got it. See ya."   
  
"Bye."   
  
Just as I hang up the phone, Ed walks toward the table.   
  
"Hey!" He says excitedly. How this man manages to stay so chipper all the time, I'll never know.   
  
I glance over at Syd, who clearly curious as to what I discussed with Weiss. I give her a 'Hold on' look then smile up at Ed.   
  
"Hey! Nice of you to finally show up. Weiss just called actually, you missed him by like two seconds." I try to change the subject, by talking about the very subject I was trying to change, I know. Smooth move, Mike.   
  
"Ah, Weiss?! It's literally been ages since I've seen that guy. What was he calling about?" Ed asks as he settles down in the seat beside Carol.   
  
"Well, I guess it seems like we may be here longer than we expected..." I say, trailing off as my eyes wander towards Syd's. She shoots me a concerned look, but Ed interrupts.   
  
"So we'll have to figure out what your living situation is going to be."   
  
I turn back towards Ed and shake my head.   
  
"Who's Weiss?" Mike asks with a hint of anger in his voice.  
  
"Aw, is Mike jealous that someone's actually taken the spotlight away from him in Eddie's eyes?" Nancy asks, nudging Mike.   
  
"No, I'm _not_ jealous," Mike replies stubbornly. "Okay, maybe a little..."   
  
"Don't worry, Mike, you'll always be the only guy for me." Ed jokes in a high pitched tone.   
  
See, normally I would have gotten a hearty laugh out of all of this. Hearty, indeed. But the mixture of confusion, anger, and joy in Syd's eyes is just too much for me to ignore.   
  
"Hey, Syd, do you think I can talk to you for a second?" I whisper, leaning closer to her. She nods her head almost imperceptively and begins to pull out of the table. I follow her lead and excuse ourselves.   
  
"We'll be right back, guys," I say as I stand up.   
  
I don't bother to listen to their response or even pay attention to how they may be reacting to our sudden exit. In all honesty, I don't really care. All I care about right now is her.   
  
As we make our way to an empty corner of the restaurant, I grab her hand and lead her outside instead. It's better safe than sorry, I think.   
  
The cold air hits my face suddenly, and I turn to her.   
  
"Two months max," I say simply. In all likelyhood, it won't even take that long anyway.   
  
"What does this mean, Michael? Is everything alright?" She asks, shivering slightly in the cold. I just want to wrap my arms around her and forget about why we're here and just enjoy the fact that we are here at all. Together. But I can't.   
  
And when did I become so sappy?   
  
"Syd, there's no reason to be worried. they don't want to rush it and you know your dad is the only one who can really get this done. Everything will be fine, I was just a little suprised and that's why I reacted like I did. But Weiss assured me, everything really will be alright.   
  
I must say, she doesn't look very comforted. In fact, I think she's on the verge of tears. No, wait, she's definitely past the verge.  
  
I move towards her and wrap my arms around her shaking body. I'm whispering something in her ear, but I don't know what. I stroke the back of her head softly and am flooded with countless memories of doing this same exact thing...in warehouses, headquarters...  
  
She says something against my shirt, but I can't make out what. I lift her head from my chest and urge her to speak with my eyes.   
  
"I'm a horrible person," she breathes as she looks away, her face wet with fresh tears.   
  
I reach up and wipe the tears from her face, letting my hand linger over her soft skin.   
  
"Sydney you are the most selfless, courageous, fearless, caring--"  
  
"No, Michael," she whispers desperately. She lets her head rest on her palm for a moment before she turns back up towards me. "You know what was the first thing I thought when I heard your cell ring? I thought, 'Please, God, make something have gone wrong so I can stay here longer with him.' That's what I thought."   
  
I'm somewhat blown away by her words. Mainly because it's an indirect declaration of love. She's here bearing her heart and soul to me, her innermost feelings, and I'm on cloud nine thinking "She likes me too?!" What's your problem?   
  
I definitely understand her though, especially seeing that I felt the same way. Overwhelming guilt and just plain disgust at my behavior. At my thougts. At myself.   
  
"Syd, I know--" She cuts me off quickly.   
  
"No. You don't. I was praying _with all my being_ that I coul djust stay herer and leave my life behind. And the scariest thing was that my wish came through. My selfish wish came true, Michael."   
  
Suddenly it hits me. She's not disgusted with herself. She isn't plagued by her mayrter-like guilt -- she is utterly terrified of her own happiness. Of actually getting what she wants, for once.   
  
"I hate myself. I HATE MYSELF." She moans passionately.   
  
Wow, Syd's got the whole drama queen act down, too. Her and Weiss should form some sort of acting company or something.   
  
"Okay, I know what your problem is," I say, sitting down on the curbside. As much as I love Syd, her mood swings really are a bitch.   
  
"What?" She asks confused as she sits down beside me.   
  
"Sometimes..." I start, staring out at the closed bakery across the street. The same one we got coffee at this morning. No, I have to approach this in a different way. "Okay, say there's this kid."  
  
"What does a kid have to do with this?" She asks, now staring at the stars.   
  
"Just bear with me here. Say there's a kid and he learns how to ride his bike and he absolutely loves it. He never falls and he just has a great time."   
  
"A kid who loves to ride his bike, got it."   
  
"So he goes out one day and he falls. He falls twice actually and gets hurt pretty bad. No really bad. Let's say he breaks his arm. So after awhile, he gets better, gets the cast off, and gets back on his bike for the first time since the accident. And you know what happens?"  
  
"He falls again," Syd answers, resting her head on my shoulder.   
  
"Exactly. And see, he keeps trying a couple more times, but he just can't get it again. He loses all his confidence in himself and just keeps falling. So after awhile, he throws his bike away. Because, even though he loves the feeling he gets when he rides down the street, the fear of falling and getting hurt yet another time is too much for him to handle."   
  
I feel Syd take in a deep breath and release it into my shirt.   
  
"So one day his parents pull the bike back out," I continue, "and attatch some training wheels to it. They make him practice riding in their driveway everyday. But only in the driveway because they know he's not ready for the big hill that waits for him down the streeet. Atleast not yet. Do you see where I'm going with this, Syd?"   
  
I feel her nod, and the weight of her head on my shoulder is suddenly gone.   
  
"Michael Saunders is your training wheels, Syd, and Stuckeyville is your driveway. There's no need to be guilty or angry at yourself for feeling what you're feeling, because you have absolutely no control over this, as much as you'd hate to admit it. And I know you're scared, Syd. I know you're scared of being happy and living a life you actually enjoy. But you need to overcome that fear. Rebuild your confidence, and this is your only chance. You're not alone in this, Syd, I'll always be here for you."   
  
Holy sh-t. How did I do that? What did I say? Damn, I wish I recorded it. T'was beautiful. Words of wisdom from the master. Thank you, thank you. No, no encores today, I'm sorry...  
  
I turn my head towards hers and we're inches apart. I let my thumb graze her cheekbone and the last thing I see is her hands coming towards my face. My eyes close as he hands pull my face towards hers and everything suddenly explodes.   
  
Her lips meet mine and everything disappears for what feels like an eternity. Her arms are wrapped around my neck tightly and I feel her hand rest on the top of my head. Somehow, my hands find her hair and are lost in a sea of softness.   
  
Speak from no coherent life uh-huh what can't crazy do huh whoa skin huge colors  
  
bang pow boom   
  
SHAWING!  
  
Can't. Breathe. Must. Pull away. But can't. Stop. Must. Breathe...  
  
We pull away slowly in desperate need of air. Her forehead rests on mine as we frantically take in as much oxygen as we possibly can.   
  
inoutinoutinoutinoutinoutinout  
  
Wow. Wowzers. Wowie wow wow-wow.   
  
That's all I can say. That and that it was everything I imagined and more. I slowly stand up and reach a hand out towards her. She grips it and I pull her up with a jolt. I wrap my arm around her waste as we walk back into the restaurant.   
  
"I think I'm finally ready to practice tonight," she whispers seductively.   
  
What do I have to say about all of this?  
  
Mikey's gonna get ridden! Mikey's gonna get ridden!  
  
**END CHAPTER SEVEN**


	8. It's You, I Fell Into

****

Chapter Eight - It's You I Fell Into  
  
_When I talked about it  
Carried on  
Reasons only knew  
But it's you I fell into  
  
"Big Me," Foo Fighters_  
  
[Syd's POV]   
  
_Later That Night_  
  
"Mike, ten bucks--"   
  
"Wait. Before you let this one out, let me just say that in any other scenario, I would certainly take your challenge, my friend. But today is different. We have a new man in our midst." Mike says dramatically, patting Michael's back. Aw, is Mike actually warming up to Michael? "And I think we should grant him the honor of having his first ten dollar bet. As an initiation, per se, into our little group here."   
  
"Oh, God, no..." All the girls groan at once, covering their eyes and rubbing their foreheads.  
  
"What?" I ask with a grin the size of Texas on my face. Okay, you got me, I'm exaggerating. It's more like Connecticut. I glance over at Michael and he chuckles slightly, looking downward.   
  
Hmm, fishy. Something's up with that boy. I'll have to make him reveal everything about himself to me tonight. Although we'll probably be busy, come to think of it...  
  
Having sex that is. Yeah, I'll definitely be testing Michael's bangability first hand tonight.   
  
"Okay, the guys have this strange -- and I mean strange in a completely idiotic sense -- tradition of ten dollar bets." Nancy explains.   
  
"What kind of ten dollar bets?" I ask, suddenly interested. I shoot another glance at Michael who has again pretended to be off in his own world. He's definitely hiding something and he sucks at it.   
  
"Trust me, you don't want to know." Carol replies, shaking her head sadly.   
  
I turn my attention back towards the boys. Ed and Mike seem pretty excited. And so does Michael. This will certainly be interesting.   
  
"Hey, Sydney, has this guy here told you about his legacy at Columbia?" Ed asks grinning evilly at Michael who looks like he's going to kill Ed.   
  
"No," I respond, smiling as I slowly shake my head.  
  
"Ed, if you say a single word I will feel absolutely no remorse in kicking your ass right here." Wow, this must be really juicy. Michael's really getting defensive, isn't he?  
  
"Dude, I could so take you on," Ed replies, tilting his head mockingly.   
  
"Hey! If you kick his ass, I'll kick your ass," I joke, pointing a warning finger at Michael. He raises his eyebrows flirtatiously and his hands rise in defeat.   
  
"Yes, Ma'am," he surrenders.  
  
Yeah, you better know who's boss. There's nothing stopping me from finding out all of Michael's juicy secrets, I swear.   
  
"Go on, Ed," I say, still glaring at Michael with a grin.   
  
"I'll just leave it at the fact that he very well could be the Phi Beta Kappa to graduate from Columbia who also hold the rec--"   
  
Whoa there, Mikey's getting fiesty. He grabbed Ed by the shirt, but they're both laughing. I don't think it's necessary to go into my unhealthy addiction to that laugh. I've pretty much exausted that issue. But yeah, It's definitely to die for.   
  
"No." He said simply.   
  
It's like he's ordering his dog not to chew the furnature. It's hilarious. This definitely must be really juicy.   
  
"Okay, okay," Ed replies, laughing as he pushes Michael off of him. "You know what? I think this bet will meet his quota of embarassment for one day. But, Syd, meet me at the fridge at 0400 hours and I'll hook you up with some classified intel."   
  
Ed is adorable. No, the world adorable doesn't convey the degree to which he is adorable. He's so funny and sweet and smart and charming and...did I mention funny? Yeah, I did...This man is like a giant teddy bear that you just want to hug and squeeze...  
  
And learn juicy tidbits about Michael from.   
  
"What about us?" Molly inquires as she takes a sip of her beer.  
  
"Oh, I'd so tell you guys once I find out. So there's no question about that." I reply in a matter of fact tone. They're my girls now! There's not a doubt in my mind that the next few weeks will be wildly entertaining.   
  
In more ways than one.   
  
Ha, gotta love the sexual innuendos.   
  
Man, when did I become so horny?!  
  
Oh yeah, I think it was right around the time of a certain antique frame...  
  
"Okay, enough with this. What's my bet? We all know I have a pretty high threshhold of embarassment so this'll have to be pretty big."   
  
Big? Hahaha, Big.  
  
So so dirty.   
  
"Mike, what do you think we should do to this newcomer?" Ed asks, turning towards Michael.   
  
"I was thinking about him challenging Big Willie over there to wra-sle!" Mike says with a laugh.   
  
"Ah! By George, that's genius!" Ed says patting Mike on the back with a nod.   
  
"I know. Like I keep telling you guys, you can't be accepted to med school if you're a dumb ass."   
  
"Oh yes, you can," Nancy pipes in.   
  
"Alright, Michael Christopher V--Saunders. We officially bet you ten dollars to go challenge Big Willie over there to a nice old fashioned wrestling match!" Ed says triumphantly. "Right here, in the middle of The Goat, for everyone to watch."   
  
Good Lord, I think I'm going to pass out. Michael Vaughn? Wrestling that guy who has to be atleast 275? In the middle of a packed restuarant?!  
  
Michael looks over at "Big Willie" and assesses him with his eyes. All the while the girls are begging Michael not to do it. 'You'll never be the same...' I hear faintly in the background...  
  
He slowly takes off his jacket and puts it on the back of his seat. I feel my jaw drop as he pulls off his sweater, revealing his fairly tight undershirt beneath. Tight enough to see his pecks in all their glory. I would get an immense kick out of checking out the other girls' reactions, but I'm pretty sure they're reveling in it just as much as I am. He tosses the sweater my way, and stands up, turning towards Ed.   
  
"Twenty says I'll do it and beat him."   
  
"Ohhhhh!!!" Ed and Mike exclaim in shock.   
  
"Little man here really thinks he can take down Big Willie?!" Mike asks, in shock.   
  
"This will be priceless," Ed breates inbetween laughs.  
  
"BIG WILLIE?!" Mike responds. "You're so on."   
  
"And may the best man win," Michael says, nodding at Ed and Mike.   
  
Michael's definitely got something up his sleeve. Because he seems way to cocky for how much Ed and Mike are cracking up at him.   
  
We all sit and watch as Michael approaches "Big Willie." They exchange a few words and before we know it, they're facing each other in front of the bar, shaking hands before going at it.   
  
Whoa there. Mikey is certainly more than a bit fiesty. If I didn't know better, I'd say he has some experience wrestling 275 pound drunkards.   
  
Either that or he took it in High School.   
  
Mmmm, young Michael in tight spandex.   
  
Ew, groping other sweaty teenagers. How gross.   
  
But wait, in this case, the tight spandex might just win out.   
  
Am I being a tad freaky here? Fantasizing about Michael as a teenager? A thirty year old fantasizing about a thirty three year old when he was sixteen. Is that more than just a little creepy to you? Because I think I've become one disturbing specimen of woman.   
  
Wow, I guess it's over because Michael's shaking Big Willie's hand like the gentlemen that he is and walking back towards us. And apparently the whole place got quite a kick out of it too, because they're giving our very own Michael a standing ovation. And so is the manager. Wow, this town is so strange. In a loveable sort of way.   
  
"Twenty bucks," Michael says, reaching a hand out as he gulps down his water.   
  
Mike and Ed's jaws are literally sitting on the floor. I don't think they can believe what they just saw. And the girls are still reveling in the glory that is my Michael. Yes, _my_ Michael, so BACK OFF!  
  
So yeah, Mike and Ed pull out ten dollar bills simultaneously and place them in Michael's hand, hanging their heads in defeat. He slips them into his back pocket.  
  
"Ed, I would have expected you of all people to know my prowess in bets of any sort," he says condescendingly.   
  
How cocky of him.   
  
Hahaha. I don't even need to say it because I know you're thinking it too.   
  
Hahaha. Cocky.   
  
Michael waves to the crowd before walking over to me.   
  
What a crowd pleaser.   
  
Everyone seems settled down once again, and he reaches over to take his sweater from my hands. I just shake my head in wonder as he puts his sweater back on.   
  
"You didn't think I could do it, did you?" He asks quietly.   
  
"No," I reply nonchalantly, "I knew you could."   
  
"Oh really?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at me.   
  
"Yeah. And by the way, I call next match." I retort with a glint in my eye.   
  
Now _that_ would be fun.   
  
I hear him laugh as he sits down beside me and places his hand on the back of my chair.   
  
Sigh.   
  
I turn to the girls who are glaring at me suspiciously.   
  
"What?" I ask turning towards them.  
  
"Oh nothing..." Carol jokes, pretending to be inconspicuous.   
  
"Okay, just so you know, you suck at that." Molly jokes nudging Carol. "All we have to say is that you..." she looks to make sure Michael isn't looking, "are so telling us all about this Monday."   
  
I have the urge to put on the "What are you talking about?" face, but where's the fun in that, right? I feel a huge smile spread across my face. Yeah, this one's definitely Texas.   
  
"Well..." I start, rolling my eyes.  
  
"How did you guys get together?" Nancy asks, quietly.   
  
"Um, well, today we kinda just..." I stumble, looking down at my hands.   
  
"What?!" Molly exlaims, causing the guys to look up at her like she's crazy.   
  
I nudge her and then smile at the guys. I feel Michael's eyes linger over me, even after I turn away, and I can't help but blush as I feel his thumb caress the back of my head.   
  
"You guys weren't an item back in LA?" Molly asks shocked.  
  
"No way, I refuse to believe it." Carol says adamantly. "You guys are like perfect. No, I refuse."   
  
I do have to admit it would be fun to talk to the girls about me and Michael. I mean, I always had Francie, but it was never fun to talk to her about him because it would always come down to "the bank" with her. She was never able to just be there for me, she always had to look out for me. And that's not her fault, but still...  
  
It would be more than nice to hang out with these girls. But a part of me still feels uncomfortable talking about it in front of him. I don't know why. I guess it's like having the biggest crush on the captain of the football team, and then finally getting to date him. You wouldn't just go up to him and spaz about how incredibly hot he is, and how how perfect he is, and how you would so do his hair. And, yes, the banging sense, not the combing.   
  
Definitely not.   
  
I look over to the girls, that stupid grin still on my face.   
  
"It really is a long story. And I mean long as in War and Peace meets both 'Lord of the Rings' movies combined long." And trust me, it is that long. It would take forever to explain the relationship me and Michael have now, and how it came to be. I'd have to recount joining the CIA, being such a bitch to him for so long, Noah, Taipei, the exact moment I realized I had feelings for him...And Danny. And I can't do that. Not now atleast.  
  
"We've got the time," Molly says, looking at her watch then back at me. "It is only 9:00..."   
  
"I'll tell you guys all about it. But later."   
  
"Aw man!" Nancy exclaims playfully.   
  
"On behalf of two of most of the most undersexed people at this table," Molly says, nudging Carol, "you are going to fill us in on everything. _Everything_. Creepiness is not an issue to us. In fact, we welcome it."   
  
We all laugh and for the first time in my life, everything seems right. No, I think "perfect" is the word I'm looking for.   
  
~~~  
  
[Warren's POV]  
  
"No, Diane, I don't know what you're talking about..."   
  
These two are pathetic. Poor excuses for teenagers, I say. All "in love" and "happy." I thought being a teenager meant being brooding and distant and not giving a sh-t about what's going around you or--  
  
Hold it.   
  
Hold it right there.   
  
What has happened here? I look over to my buddy Ed's table to admire the astonishingly beautiful Ms. Carol Vessey, the English teacher of everyone's dreams, and an unknown woman steals my heart.   
  
Her hair is brown and absolutely perfect. Her lips, full and volumptuous. Her smile as bright as the rising sun. Who is this fair maiden?  
  
And what's she doing hanging out with Ed?  
  
I've decided it right here, right now. She will be the next Mrs. Warren Cheswick. I wil make it my life's mission, if I must. I will do anything to win the affections of that woman. Anything.   
  
I think Diane's saying something to me, and I'm sure Mark is yelling at me for stealing this onion ring off his plate, but now's my only chance.   
  
I may never see her again, so I've gotta sieze the opportunity.   
  
Live life to it's fullest.   
  
Carpe Diem, baby.   
  
I don't know how I get over there so fast. Or how I end up on one knee beside her chair, between her and Ms. Vessey.   
  
"Warren? What are you doing back there?" Ms. Hudson asks slightly confused at my actions.   
  
And there she is. She's turned around and staring right at me. Her eyes are gorgeous and so is everything else about her.   
  
Speak, boy, speak!  
  
"Will you marry me?"   
  
The ring, fool! Get the ring!  
  
I pull out the ring and offer it to her. The onion ring, that is.   
  
Is her lip quivering because she's going to shed tears of joy, or laugh hysterically at my idiocy?  
  
I'm pretty sure it's the latter.   
  
The whole table is dying now, including Ms. Vessey. And the guy sitting next to my future wife. The dude who wrestled Big Willie and won. Great, now I didn't just make a fool out of myself in front of the woman of my dreams, but also in front of the coolest guy to ever grace Stuckeyville with his presence.  
  
"Warren, I'd like you to meet Ms. Hanton, you're knew English Lit teacher for the next few weeks. Sydney -- Warren." Ms. Vessey says, wiping the tears from her eyes.   
  
"It's very nice to meet you, Warren." Sydney says, nodding her head in my direction with an incredibly amused expression on her face.   
  
Oh God, What do I do?  
  
Suddenly I burst into laughter as I stand up. I turn around and point to Diane and Mark, who are apparently in shock, and I think I play it off well.   
  
"Oh man, I got you that time, Carol!" I exclaim, nudging a not very amused "Carol."   
  
"Ms. Vessey. I mean, Ms. Vessey."  
  
Yeah, time to bow your head in shame and just walk away. No need to dwell on past failures, just look ahead and start planning your next way to sweep her off her feet. It can be done. I'm sure of it.   
  
"Shot down," Diane and Mark say in unison as I sit back down in the booth.   
  
"Shut up." I retort.   
  
It's going to happen.  
  
I'm going to make it happen.   
  
~~~  
  
_An Hour Later_  
  
[Syd's POV]  
  
"You know what, guys? I'm actually a little tired. You'd think that after all the travelling I've done, I would have gotten used to the jet lag already, huh? But yeah, I think I'm going to head back to Ed's place." I say as I stand up and put my coat back on.   
  
"Already?" Nancy responds, somewhat disappointed.   
  
"Yeah," I reply with a light chuckle, "but I'll see you guys tomorrow."   
  
"You know the way, right?" Ed asks.   
  
"Oh, yeah," I say, with a hint of 'Does double agent ring a bell?' in my voice. To tell you the truth, I'm taking my time, waiting for a certain green eyed handler to get the message...  
  
"Yeah, I should probably be heading out too," Michael says, getting out of his chair and putting his jacket back on. 'Atta boy.   
  
"Aw man!" Ed exclaims. "Not you too, man!"   
  
"Sorry," Michael says, patting Ed's back apologetically. "I'll see you guys later." He says, as he nods towards me with an almost inperceptible grin. "Shall we?"   
  
"We shall," I reply with a smile, as he makes his way towards me. "See ya, guys. We really had a great time." I say politely.   
  
"Bye!" They call out.   
  
I don't think I'm able to hide my giddiness as I feel Michael's hand rest on the base of my back as he leads me out of the restaurant.   
  
By the time we're a block or so away, I can't help it and just start laughing. I need some sort of way to release all this pent up energy I have from tonight, and it was either this, or jumping Michael, and I think I should save the latter for when we get back to Ed's place.   
  
"What?" He asks, smiling brightly.   
  
"_What?_" I mimic playfully as I walk backwards in front of him so that we can face each other. "You know what."  
  
"No, I actually don't." He sucks at lying, but it's cute that he's playing along. Although I'll probably regret this sudden outburst of childish excitement later on, I'm definitely going to live it up.   
  
I grab his hands and wrap them around my waist, and we slowly come to a stop as I wrap my arms around his neck and bring my lips to his. I feel his hands rise along my sides and I smile against his lips. This must be what Heaven is like. How cliche, I know, but really...  
  
I slowly pull away and look into his sparkling green eyes.   
  
"I love this town," I say, prying my arms off of him. I grab his hands and intertwine his fingers in mine, lifting them up to his chest. "I love the people, I love the food, I love the trees, I love the cold..."   
  
"My, aren't you just full of love today." He jokes.  
  
"And you know what?" I ask. I've known it for awhile, but I don't know if I should tell him like this. In the middle of the street while I'm on this natural high brought about by this town.   
  
"What?" He asks, pulling a strand of hair out of my face.   
  
"I love _you_."  
  
There went nothing. I said it. It's out there. There's nothing I can do now, no way to turn back, it's been said. I've known him for almost two years, kissed him...twice now. Saved his life a few times, he's saved mine a few times. We've been to Hell and back and I've made up my mind. I love him.   
  
"I love you, too," he says with no hesitation. My smile grows even wider and I wrap my arms around him once again. We kiss once again, but I'm pretty sure this one beats out the last two. And all of the other one's I've ever had for that matter.   
  
And as if by cue, snowflakes slowly begin to fall from the sky. I pull away suddenly, and look up laughing.   
  
"Geez, even the weather is perfect!" I explain.   
  
"Yeah, I do have to admit, the timing was a bit freaky." Michael replies with a laugh. I feel his arm wrap around my waist once again, and I rest my head on his shoulder as we walk in silence towards the house.  
  
You know how it's so easy to put pain, anger, hate, and despair to words? Well yeah, it's not as easy express inexplicable joy. I could go on for the next hour talking about bunnies and rainbows and flowers and naked Michaels, but I won't. Because, first of all, It would probably be nausiating beyond belief, and second of all, I think I'll be a little busy...  
  
If you know what I mean.   
  
**END CHAPTER EIGHT**


	9. Breathe Out, So I Can Breathe You In

****

Chapter Nine - Breathe Out, So I Can Breathe You In  
  
_And I wonder  
When I sing along with you  
If everything could ever feel this real forever  
If anything could ever be this good again  
  
"Everlong," Foo Fighters_  
  
[Vaughn's POV]  
  
"You're going to regret it if you don't tell me."   
  
I don't think I've ever seen her smile so brightly in all the time I've known her. She has certainly undergone a tranformation because this isn't the same Sydney I used to know. Or wait, maybe it is, but it's just her without all that emotional baggage she's forced to carry around back in LA.   
  
"I will never speak a word of it to my dying day and there's nothing you can do to change that." I say adamantly as I cross my arms.   
  
I must be in another world or lifetime rather.   
  
Before I realize it, Sydney has both of her legs on either side of my midsection and her hands are planted firmly on my bare chest.  
  
"I'm not getting up until you tell me."   
  
Fine by me.   
  
"Just so you know, Sydney, this isn't exactly torture." I say with a grin as my hands graze the skin at the top of her hips underneath my old t-shirt that she's wearing.   
  
I've definitely never seen Sydney this playful before. And feisty for that matter. But hey, I'm not complaining.   
  
It must be around 2 AM. Let's just say I rocked her entire universe quite awhile ago, but we haven't really been able to fall asleep. I mean, what guy would want to sleep when it's so much more fun to be awake? I must say, being with Syd when she's on her post sex natural high is the most fun anyone could possibly have.  
  
"Uh uh uh," Sydney says, shaking her head at me with a devilish smile. She's prying my hands off her waist and pinning them above my head on the bed. Sweet! "No touching unless you tell me what record you held in college."  
  
I shake my head nonchalantly.   
  
"Nope. No way. And let me just say, this is the best torture _ever_."   
  
Is she laughing? What happened to her hard as nails tactics?  
  
Her hands loosen their grip on mine and I feel hers begin to travel down the length of my chest and stomache. I catch my breath as I feel her finger brush against the scar on my lower abdomen, her touch as light as a feather. Eigth grade: appendecimy. Impressive battle scars, I know.   
  
I can't help butbe disappointed as she "dismounts" and sits cross legged on the bed beside me. I slide up and let my back rest on the headboard.   
  
Her hands are playing with my right arm and as much aws I want to grab her and kiss her a thousand times over, I can't. Because I know I'll look over and she'll be staring back at me with her huge brown puppy dog eyes and all those embarassing stories I've worked so hard to keep hidden, will be revealed.   
  
Don't do it, Mike. Fight the urge...  
  
Hell, who am I kidding?   
  
I look over there and of course, I've got a pouting Syd staring right back at me.   
  
You're a pathetic excuse for man, Michael Vaughn. You have absolutely no will power, whatsoever.   
  
"Aw, don't look at me like that..." I plead as a last ditch effort, knowing full well that there's no turning back now, and I have no choice but to tell her. Come to think of it, that story's probably not the worst, so it shouldn't be too bad...  
  
No, it will. It certainly will.   
  
I look back up at her and I'm pretty sure she's gotten more pouty. Is that possible? Is 'pouty' even a word? Probably not, but that's the least of my worries, right now.   
  
"Syd--"  
  
"Come on, Michael..." she begs, running her hands up my arm. How am I supposed to resist this again?   
  
Just look her in the eyes and say "no." Strongly and firmly, she'll get the point.   
  
My eyes linger over her flawless face and before I am fully aware of what's coming out of my mouth, a huge grin is spreading across her face.   
  
"Okay, fine, but only this one story. Nothing more."   
  
"Okay! Perfect!" She says, glowing. "That's all I wanted anyway. I seriously thought I'd die of curiousity. Okay, on with the show!"   
  
Now she's clapping at me. What am I, a circus clown? Here simply for her amusement and to fulfill hersexual desires?   
  
Wait, that's definitely fine with me...  
  
"Okay, in college I was a really by the book student..."   
  
"Oh what a suprise," she replies sarcastically, rolling her eyes.   
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, hurt. Okay, maybe not really hurt, but you get the point.   
  
"Nothing, nothing," she says smiling, "continue."   
  
"Okay, so when it came to school work I was a really diligent guy. Everything had to be done and everything had to be done perfectly for me to even consider going out and partying. Well, yeah, basically by the time exams finished every term, I had all of this pent up energy that would just be begging to be let out."  
  
"Uh huh..." she responds slowly. She's getting way too much fun out of this.   
  
It really isn't that embarassing. It really isn't.   
  
Yeah, just keep telling yourself that Mike, keep telling yourself that.   
  
"So me and Ed and a few of the guys would just party so insanely hard when exams were over and we could really afford to do so...Apparently, I partied the hardest out of all us guys and that's what record Ed was talking about." I finish quickly and avoid eye contact because I can't lie to her. It's not humanly possible for me to lie to her. Especially when looking straight into her eyes!  
  
"You're lying. I mean it, if you don't tell me the truth, you'll really regret it."   
  
I sigh. This isn't fun. Okay, it is, but sort of isn't either. Yeah, not making any sense again.   
  
"Come on, Syd, I really don't like recalling it. It wasn't exactly what I'd like to be remembered by."   
  
She's glaring at me. Ugh.   
  
"Let's just leave it at the fact that it involved gratuitous nudity."   
  
That got her attention.   
  
"Gratutious, eh?" She says, wiggling her eyebrows.   
  
"As I said, not my proudest moment."   
  
"Oh, I most certainly beg to differ," she says flirtatously, assessing me with her eyes. I think my face is turning bright red, but hopefully that's only in my head. "Aw, you're blushing."  
  
Sh-t.   
  
I roll my eyes and try to look upset, but it's hard when Sydney is curled up against you, holding your face in her hands.   
  
"Stop," I say shyly, turning my head. I don't particularly enjoy being admired as cute after revealing one of the most embarassing moments of my life.   
  
"When did you of all people become shy?" She says, mockingly. It's actually not as much mocking as it is heavenly.   
  
I don't say anything, and just look at her with a shy smile.   
  
What has come over me? I haven't acted like this since I was like ten. Seriously.   
  
"Aw, I think I like 'Shy Michael,'" she replies, tilting her head to the side as she plays with the hair on the side of my head.   
  
"Stop calling me shy," I say, tickling her abdomen slightly.   
  
Interesting. If only those big ass men she fights all the time knew what her one weakness was...She's ticklish.   
  
"Stop being shy," she replies jokingly. She rests her head on my chest, and I watch as her eyes begin to droop. I can't help but laugh.   
  
"What?" She asks, grinning sleepily.   
  
"Nothing," I say playfully.   
  
She glares up at me, then lets her eyes drop once again.   
  
"I would find out, but I'm too tired right now. So you're off the hook."   
  
"Okay," I say with a smile, as I reach over and pull the blanket farther up Sydney's body.   
  
"Goodnight, Michael," she breathes into my neck before kissing it lightly.   
  
"'Night, Syd," I reply, in a daze.   
  
This is all still to surreal for me to accept.   
  
"Thank you," she adds, barely above a whisper. I smile then kiss her hair.   
  
Thank _you_, Sydney Bristow.  
  
~~~  
  
_The Next Morning_   
  
Uhhhh...Sunlight bad. Darkness good.   
  
Did I mention how much I hate mornings?   
  
I yawn and begin to stretch my arms, and am startled by Sydney's movement against my chest.   
  
Stuckeyville certainly is amazing. It has officially changed my hatred of mornings into a love of mornings. From this moment on, I love mornings with a passion roughly equivalent to my prior hate. That's a pretty passionate love.   
  
I feel Syd take in a deep breath and begin to move away from me.   
  
"What time is it?" She mumbles, almost incoherently. I smile down at her as she tries to find her way out of the mass of hair that's covering her face. Looking at the alarm clock, I shake my head.   
  
"It's 12." I say, springing up suddenly.   
  
"Who cares?" She replies plopping her head back down into the pillow.   
  
She's adorable first thing in the morning. No, she's more like breathtakingly gorgeous.   
  
"I care," I say, getting up and heading towards my clothes, "I haven't gone jogging in like a week."   
  
"You go jogging every morning?" Syd asked, bolting up in bed.   
  
"Why do you find that so shocking?" I ask with a grin.   
  
"I don't know," she says, pulling the covers off slowly, "you just don't seem like a jogging kinda guy..."   
  
"Well you don't seem like an ass-kicking kind of girl," I reply smugly.   
  
She raises her eyebrows at me. Whoa, that's supposed to be my move.  
  
"Well people aren't always like they seem."   
  
"My point exactly," I say, smiling. I'm pretty sure this smile won't be leaving anytime soon. I'm in a state of ecstatic euphoria beyond anything that anyone has ever experienced in their life, I'm pretty sure.   
  
She gets up and I just stand and admire her as she puts her hair up in a clip.   
  
"What?" She asked, slightly embarassed. "Do I have drool on my face or something?"   
  
Yeah, you could probably make drool look hot, too.   
  
"No," I respond, laughing. "I was just thinking that you look so much better in my clothes than I do."   
  
She looks down and examines herself closely, then glances back up at me with a curt shake of the head.   
  
"I don't think so," she replies, walking over and stopping right in front of me. "Isn't this crazy?"   
  
"What? That you look better than me in my own clothes?" I ask jokingly.   
  
"No," she says, rolling her eyes as she pushes me lightly.   
  
"Hey, no hitting, I bruise very easily." Don't you just love setting someone up to give a priceless line?   
  
"That's not what you were saying last night," Syd said, unable to restrain her laughter.   
  
"Oh, snap!" I exclaim, waving my hands in her face.   
  
"Okay, Michael, no. You're so not ghetto." She says, shaking her head disdainfully.  
  
"Hey, if Mike can rap to Eminem, I can pull off the 'snap.'"  
  
"Yeah, because you haven't been a white little french boy for the past thirty three years..."   
  
"Little? I thin--" She covers my mouth with her hand and has a huge grin on her face.   
  
"Don't even say it, you dirty, dirty boy." She slowly takes her hand off my mouth and that creepy grin is still on my face. She laughs. How can someone's laugh be so perfect? "And yes, back to what I was talking about...I mean _this_. How crazy is _this_? The fact that a week ago we couldn't even look at each other in public and now we're here...doing this..."   
  
Her arms slowly wrap around my neck and she leans in for morning breath kiss. Either she doesn't have morning breath at all or my senses have been completely clogged by her presence, because I'm pretty sure she smells like roses.   
  
"Yeah, it is pretty crazy, isn't it?" I reply, my face inches from hers.   
  
"Crazy is the understatement of the millenium," she says, chuckling as she walks towards her stuff.   
  
Yeah, that sounds about right.   
  
~~~  
  
_Stuckeybowl -- 1:30 PM_   
  
"So you two finally decided to get out of bed, huh?" Right as we walk through the front door, Ed greets us oh so graciously.  
  
"I didn't want to but he forced me to," Syd says, leaning into me.  
  
Yeah, it's still a little strange to be able to partake in public displays of affection...Arms around each others waists, touching, leaning...  
  
"Funny, Mike never was a morning person in college." Ed's shaking his head at me with that 'Oh you dog, you' grin on his face. I look down then back at Ed with a smug expression.   
  
"Well, he seemed to be pretty chipper this morning...Or noon rather," she jokes, turning towards me. I can't stop looking at her. There's just something about that face that just begs m to stare at it. Or kiss it furiously, but I don't think now's the time or here's the place.   
  
Oh, what the Hell...  
  
I lean in and give her a quick kiss, but we're rudely interrupted by Ed's horrible fake clearing of the throat.   
  
"Get a room." I hear Ed croak in the background. Syd smiles against my lips, then pulls away, wiping the lipstick off my lips with her hands.   
  
"Sorry," she says lightly to me, then turns to Ed. "I apologize," she says jokingly.   
  
"I don't know if I can accept," Ed retorts, spraying disinfectant into the shoes. "A man can only take seeing so much PDA."   
  
"Hey, just because we're happy together and you're a sad, lonely, old man, doesn't mean you have to take it out on us." What am I going to do with Ed? That man has relationship issues if I've ever seen them.   
  
"Oh, that hurts. Really." Ed replies, clutching his heart.   
  
Right as I'm about to come back with a sharp witty comment (because we all know how sharp and witty I am) a guy rolls up in a wheelchair. I feel Syd's arm slide off of my waist as she makes her way to a chair and sits down.   
  
"Yo, Ed. I don't know what we're gonna do about this birthday party of twenty five man." He says.   
  
"What do you mean, Eli? I thought everything was set." Ed responds, suddenly worried.   
  
"Hell no. Did you hear Phil? The dude wants to bring in animals. _Farm animals_. He keeps sayin' somethin' about it being our big money maker...Petting Zoo Bowling Alley."   
  
I can't help but laugh as I see that exasperated expression on Ed's face that I'm more than familiar with.   
  
"I'm telling you, Bosco, it'll be like floppy hat night at baseball games. People will flock here in the millions." A guy with dark hair and some poor excuse for a shirt walks up to Ed.   
  
"Phil, what have I told you about farm animals and the Stuckeybowl? They don't mix. Period." Ed says, putting a towel over his shoulder.   
  
"Bos--" Suddenly, who I presume is Phil, stops speaking and stares over at Sydney. I don't like the way his eyebrows are moving. That man is up to no good. Okay, he's moving in. That's my cue...  
  
"Why hello there, who might--" He starts, but before he can get out the rest of his pick-up line, I'm sitting beside Syd. I know, it's stupid to be territorial over a woman...I mean, she can, after all, fend men off for herself, but now we're an item. Or atleast that's what I assume. And this kind of stupid stuff is what boyfriends are supposed to do.   
  
"Hey, you must be Phil," I say standing up and extending a hand to him. "I'm Michael, a friend of Ed's from college."   
  
"Oh, I see," he says, sizing me up with his eyes.   
  
"And this is Sydney," I say, wrapping my arms around her shoulder as she stands. I feel her hand rub the back of mine, and smile. Job well done, Mike.   
  
"Hi, it's nice to meet you Phil," Syd says, also extending her hand.   
  
Phil grins like the horny bastard he is, takes Sydney's hand and kisses it. I hear her laugh and decide to play it cool. From what I hear, this Phil _is_ quite a character...  
  
"So, Phil, I've heard a lot about you," I say politely.   
  
"Yes, I'm sure. I'm a world renowned snowboarder actually." Phil replies apathetically. Yes, from what I hear, he's also a compulsive liar.   
  
"No, you're not," Ed calls out from behind the counter without even looking up.   
  
"Don't listen to Bosco here, he's always been jealous of my agility atop the 'board. He has this undying desire to be young again, but I keep tellin him, after you reach the big 5-0, it's tough to pass yourself off as one of the boy-z."   
  
This Phil is actually quite entertaining. I must admit that he is bearable as long as he keeps his filthy hands off Syd.   
  
Wow, I'm getting really really really territorial.   
  
And it's actually kinda fun.   
  
We've been here for what? A couple days? And she already has some teenager and some creepy thirty-something vying for her affections. I can't blame them though, I would too, if she wasn't already mine.   
  
And I don't mean mine in the possessive ownership kind of way, I mean--  
  
Ah, you know what I mean.   
  
"Why don't I give you guys a formal introduction," Ed says, stepping down from the island in the middle of the Stuckeybowl. "Sydney, Michael -- this is Phil Stubbs. He's an employee here at the Stuckeybowl."   
  
"Manager." Phil pipes in.   
  
"Dude, face it, you lost your job. I'm in control now and you better get your sorry ass back to work before I throw it out onto the street." I hear the guy in the wheel chair call out as he rolls up to us.   
  
"And this is Ely. Ely -- Michael and Sydney. Me and Michael went to college together in New York."   
  
"Nice to meet you two," Ely says shaking our hands.   
  
"Uh Ed. We've got a party of 25 waiting in the lobby and the cows and sheep are ready to be herded in and want to know where to go."  
  
What the Hell?!  
  
I turn around, startled by the monotone female voice I hear behind me. Ah, this must be Shirley. Ed's "quirky" (as he liked to call her) secretary. Yeah, she's a little creepy...  
  
"I'll take care of the animals, Shirley," Phil says, making his way towards the entrance.   
  
"Thank you, Shirley," Ed says tiredly, looking back towards Phil.   
  
"And who might you two be?" Shirley says turning towards me and Sydney.   
  
"Hi, I'm Michael, a friend of Ed's from college. And this is Sydney. We're going to--" Suddenly, I'm cut off by this robot-esque woman dressed in this freakishly crisp blue suit.   
  
"Alright. As long as you're not here to take away Fluffy. I don't know what that boy said, but she did not scratch any police officer."   
  
I look over to Ed, slightly confused and he looks just as puzzled as I do. I turn to Syd, with a grin on my face and she has a hand covering hers to supress her laughter.   
  
"Yeah, this will be fun," I whisper to her. She nods her head and looks at me knowingly.   
  
"Well we've got this huge birthday party coming in so why don't we head over to my office." Ed says, walking towards a fairly large room. We both follow and as he shuts the door, I look around in admiration.   
  
"So this is where the infamous bowling alley owner practices his own version of small town law. I have to admit, it's quite charming." I say fiddling with the colorful bowling balls that adorn his wall.   
  
"Charming, indeed," Syd adds, sitting down in the chair in front of Ed's desk.   
  
"I like to think so," Ed replies with a smile.   
  
"So, Edward, how have things been progressing with you and Ms. Vessey." I say, venturing out on a limb as I sit down in the seat beside Sydney. She looks over at me with a somewhat suprised look on her face.   
  
This might be a sore subject, so I guess I should tread softly. He hasn't mentioned Carol for quite awhile now...I'm starting to think that something's up. Clearly, this Denis Martino guy is out of the picture, but...  
  
"So you _do_ like Carol," Syd says with a grin. "I had a feeling. She's sweet. I like her, you two would be cute together."   
  
Yeah, Ed doesn't seem too happy. He actually looks agitated more than giddy, like he usually is. He looks up and makes eye contact with me and I immediately feel bad for bringing up the Carol issue. Something clearly happened, and he isn't comfortable with sharing it with Sydney too. I would say that it's no big deal, you could talk about it around her too, but he doesnt seem to excited to talk...  
  
I give him a knowing glance, and he looks back down.   
  
"I don't think anything will ever really happen between me and Carol." He says in a hushed tone.   
  
Sydney looks at him, then back at me. Clearly her spy sense has picked up the tension on it's radar. And I'm not suprised. She's got one damn good spy sense.   
  
"Oh, I see how it is. I won't pry..." Sydney says, looking at me with a glint of rebellion in her eye.   
  
Ed has turned back to his work intently and I know exactly what me and Syd are going to do. Our 'mission' per se, because we are very 'mission'-oriented people.   
  
We're gonna get Ed some lovin'!  
  
Preferrably in the form of Carol Vessey.   
  
I nod discreetly at Syd, and she gets the sign. Never in my life have I even considered becoming a cheesy matchmaker, but desperate times call for desperate measures. The closest this boy has gotten to being happy was with that Bonnie woman. And we all know how that turned out. Carol getting jealous...Heartbreak...Carol moving on and leaving Ed in the dust...  
  
No matter how crappy Carol treated Ed, the only way he will truly be happy is if their together. There's something about that woman that makes him wild, and not having a steady girlfriend for almost 3 years is really sad.   
  
Times, they are a'changin.  
  
In Edward J. Stevens's favor.   
  
This will be so much fun. I think I'm starting to feel like an old woman trying to set her son up so he'll settle down. Yeah, that defintely means I'm getting way too excited.   
  
Calm yourself, man. You are a thirty three year old man and do have personal standards that you need to keep in mind.   
  
Okay, better.   
  
"So, Syd. You excited to teach at my big alma mater? Stuckeyville High, baby!"   
  
Changing the subject. Interesting. Perhaps feelings still linger? I think so.   
  
"I'm actually really psyked!" Syd replies excitedly.   
  
She should be excited. She has no clue what awaits her first day as Ms. Sydney Hanton, substitute teacher in English Lit at Stuckeyville High. I'm actually suprised she hasn't asked about my cover as of yet...  
  
"Yeah, the kids down there are actually pretty cool. A lot of them hang out here...Like Warren, who you met." Ed adds in with a laugh.   
  
"Oh God, don't remind me!" Sydney responds, also laughing.   
  
"Will you marry me?" I say in a squeaky voice, leaning over towards Sydney's chair.   
  
"Shut up!" Syd jokes, smacking me in the arm.   
  
"Hey! What did I tell you about hitting?" I exclaim.   
  
"Yeah, this boy bruises like a peach," Ed says sarcastically, walking over to me and patting me on the back. "Yeah right."   
  
"I have to concur. This boy is really quite _robust_, if I do say so myself." Sydney jokes. I swear, she just loves to watch me blush doesn't she? Sh-t. Now Ed's going to harrass me.   
  
"Did Mikey score last night?" He asks, turning away from his law books to face us. "Judging by the color of his face, and the lateness of you guys' arrival, I'd say yes."   
  
Why must Ed always dwell on sex. It's a natural experience in life and just because he doesn't get any, doesn't mean that I have to deal with his smart ass quips.   
  
"Aw, is Mikey embarassed?" Syd asks, rubbing her hand over my face, much like she did last night.   
  
I look up at her, pleading with my eyes for the sex talk to stop. I don't know why, but I can talk about it to guys, and I can talk about it with my girlfriend, but mixing the two just doesn't work in my book. No way.   
  
She grins up at me and shakes her head.   
  
"I never knew you were so sensitive." She says mockingly. She just loves to give Ed more and more to harrass me about, doesn't she?   
  
"If you think _that's_ him being sensitive, you should see him when he watches Bambi. Bawls like a baby."   
  
Oh God.   
  
**END CHAPTER NINE**


	10. Hey, Warren Cheswick!

****

Chapter Ten - Hey, [Warren Cheswick]!  
  
_Your eyes still remind me of  
Angels that hover above  
Eyes that can change from blind to blue  
  
"Hey, Johnny Park!" Foo Fighters_  
  
[Warren's POV]  
  
"I'm telling you, Mark, this woman _will be_ my wife."  
  
Mark's laughing in my face. He really doesn't see it does he? What a fool.   
  
"Cheswick, I really think you've lost your mind." He says, turning toward his locker. I lean on the locker beside his, shocked at the fact that my best friend isn't supporting me in this endeavor. "First of all, she's drop dead gorgeous, and you are...well you're you. Second of all, she's got to be atleast 27. And you, my friend, are a wee seventeen years of age."   
  
"Love has no age." I say simply. And it doesn't. So there.   
  
"Ha. Tell the cops that." Mark retorts. Hey, I'll be 18 in less than a month, thank you very much...  
  
"Oh ye of little faith," I say shaking my finger in Mark's facee. "With an attitude like that, you're practically begging to be snubbed from our guest list."   
  
"And what guest list might this be?" Diane asks, coming up behind us.   
  
"To his wedding." Mark answers, rolling his eyes.   
  
"Wedding?" Diane responds, looking confused. And that is a rarity right there. Little Miss "I know the all the secrets of the world" actually looks confused. Whoa. "If you're talking about Ms. Hanton, Cheswick, she's so out of your league."   
  
"What?" I exclaim, shocked that she too isn't being supportive.   
  
"Thank you Diane." Mark adds in as we turn the corner. "This boy needs to be brought back to the real world."   
  
"Do you even know anything about this woman?" Diane asks, condescendingly.   
  
Why must she be so elitist? It's quite unbecoming if I do say so myself. She's just jealous that I'm not going after her anymore and have set my eyes on a new beauty. Jealousy, jealous, she's jealous of me-e-e.   
  
Yeah, can't say that out loud or she'll kick my ass.   
  
"Beside the fact that she's got a body like a Greek goddess and the face to match." Mark always has the ability to take the words right out of my mouth. The boy's got a gift.   
  
What else do I need to know?   
  
I frantically try to think of something, _anything_, to say to win over these two as we walk into the classroom of our new history elective.   
  
"So what if I don't know anything about her? Have you guys ever heard of a little something called love at first sight?"   
  
Wouldn't you expect your best friends to support you if you were about to undertake the biggest task of your lifetime? Winning the love of your life's heart? Clearly they aren't real friends. They simply associate themselves with me because of my high social status.   
  
Of course.   
  
"No such thing." Diane replies quickly.   
  
This girl really is one sad excuse for a human being. Elitist and loveless. Tis a sad tale.   
  
"You can't tell me you don't believe in love at first sight." I say in disbelief.   
  
"I--" Diane starts but stops suddenly as our new history teacher walks through the door.   
  
Wait a second, this guys looks familiar...  
  
Dude! He's that guy who wrestled Big Willie! How Cool!  
  
We are going to be educated by Stuckeyville greatness!  
  
"Scratch that." Diane says, dazed.   
  
Wa--Wa--Wait a second.   
  
I snap my head towards a love striken Diane, then back at our teacher. I must admit, the guy is good looking. And I mean that in a completely heterosexual way. I swear!  
  
A smile slowly spreads across my face as the reality hits me. This Diane who claims to be "too cool" for crushes...that "doesn't believe" in love at first sight, has fallen victim to her own...  
  
Okay, I don't know what she's fallen victim to, but let's just say...  
  
She saw his face, and now she's a believer.   
  
Gotta love those Monkees. M-O-N-K-**E-E**-S. I would give anything to be Davey Jones. Anything.   
  
"Diane? Diane? Hello?" I hear Mark call out, waving his hand in her face.   
  
"Aw, does Diane-Wiane have a wittle cwushy-wushy?" I ask in a baby voice. There's no doubt about it, I rock the baby voice unlike anyone before me.   
  
Diane shakes herself out of her hormone induced stupor.   
  
"Cheswick? Never, and I mean _never_ do that again." She says, turning to me.  
  
"What? I thought it was good..." I start, but can't continue as Mark drowns me out.   
  
"Hello, Diane. If we're going to be a couple, neither one of us can be drooling over other men. Uh, and women...You get what I mean." Mark has worked himself into a little tizzy.   
  
"Hahahaha, yeah Mark, don't go drooling over any men." I say, pulling my books out of my bag and placing them on my desk.   
  
"Shut up, Cheswick." They both say at the same time. How rude.   
  
"I was just kidding, Mark," Diane says with a laugh as she turns towards him. "Plus, it's not like he's gonna _steal me away from you_ or anything."   
  
Mark looks up at our teacher wearily then back at Diane.   
  
If I were him, I'd chain Diane up in her room and never let her leave. We've got a heartbreaker on our hands.   
  
Dude, that means I should probably make sure this character and Ms. Hanton avoid each other at all costs. There's no way I'm going to let anyone steal my woman away from me.  
  
"Alright, I guess we can start class now," he says walking up from behind his desk. "I'm going to be teaching this elective for the next few weeks, until Mr. Smith comes back from his maternity leave with his wife. My name is Mr. Saunders, and welcome to European History."   
  
I frantically turn around and scan the room. Okay, this is crazy. I have never seen twelve senior girls simultaneously break out into a fit of hushed giggles and whispers and Diane start fluttering her eyelashes. Why do they find this man so undeniably sexy? I'll definitely have to take lessons, there's no doubt about it...  
  
"I guess I'll start by learning names. Uh, I guess we can start with you," he points to me and I look kinda shocked at first, but recover quickly. "Yeah, you. Um, why don't you tell us all your name...or whatever nickname you want to be called by and an interesting fact about yourself."   
  
"Uhh, okay...Uhh...My name is Warren Cheswick, but my friends call me The Chez."   
  
"No, Cheswick, no one calls you that."   
  
"It's in limited release," I say, shaking my head and smiling. Crap, the sweat is coming. Why did I have to inherit my father's uncontrollable glands?! If I can't keep my cool with this guy, how am I going to do it with Ms. Hanton?!  
  
He's laughing. Oh God, now even _he's_ laughing at me.   
  
"That's so strange. I used to say the same thing in High School..." He starts, walking over to my desk. "I used to always tell people to call me these insane names...like things you would never ever call someone in public or want to be called. Just so I could be like 'Hey, my name is Michael but my friends call me 'Balls of Steel.'" Everyone laughs. Okay, I've officially decided, this guy is the coolest teacher _ever_. "So yeah, of course no one would call me that, but whenever people would ask if I had any nicknames I'd tell them, but always say 'it's in limited release.' Isn't that insane?"   
  
Holy crap, I'm a young Mr. Saunders. When I get older I will have the women swarming all over me, and maybe will outgrow my inability to speak coherently to hot girls. I will be his deciple. I declare it here and now.   
  
"Yeah," I say with a wide smile.   
  
"So, Warren...or 'The Chez' rather..." he says, turning back towards me. "One thing about yourself."   
  
"Uhhh...I don't...know..." How the Hell am I supposed to know what to say? I'm the most uninteresting person on the face of the earth. Hell, I hired a girl from an escort service to take me to the prom.   
  
"Oh, come on, anything." He replies.   
  
"Umm..."   
  
"He writes poetry and enjoys long walks on the beach." I hear Mark say from behind me. Damn you, Marcus.   
  
"Ha, ha, very funny," I say turning around.   
  
"Okay, I'll let you off the hook this time," Mr Saunders says, pointing to Mark behind me. "What about you? Name and one fact."   
  
"I'm Mark. My friends call me...Mark. And my favorite movie is 'The Matrix.'"   
  
"Oh, excellent movie." He says with a grin. "Definitely on my top ten list. Nothing beats the subway scene. Nothing."   
  
"For sure." Mark says, smiling.   
  
Okay, this must be some sort of record. This guy has won over the whole class already, I can tell.   
  
"And you?"   
  
"My name is Sam, and I play Basketball and Baseball."   
  
"What position in baseball?" He asks. A jock. Perfect, he just had to be a jock, didn't he.   
  
"Third base."   
  
"The hot corner, baby!" He says excitedly. "I was actually a pitcher, back in the day. Baseball...What a sport. Go Mets. And none of you can ever say anything bad about my Mets or you'll automatically fail, and I mean it." He says laughing. "Okay, what about you?"   
  
"My name is Michelle, and I'm currently available."   
  
You've got to be kidding me. This is beyond crazy.   
  
He laughs it off and raises his eyebrows.   
  
"Good to know."   
  
~~~  
  
"Okay, I know we didn't get to much today, but I'm expecting you all to have the first assignment read by tomorrow. This class will be moving at a pretty fast pace and you don't want to be left in the dust because you'll only be hurting yourself." Mr Saunders calls out as we all gather our books and make our way out of the room.   
  
_What_ is Diane doing?   
  
I exchange a glance with Mark as we make our way to Mr. Saunders's desk. She is so smitten it's sick. And that's a lot coming from Warren P. Cheswick. The king of smitten-ness.   
  
"Okay, awesome." He says, looking up from his papers. "That sounds great, Diane."   
  
"Great!" She exclaims, looking back at Mark. She loops her arm in Mark's, as a sort of sign I suppose.   
  
"I'll see you guys later, then."   
  
"Wait, Mr. Saunders...I was wondering if you're friends with Ed Stevens." I ask suddenly.   
  
"Yeah, me and Ed went to college together. Why do you ask, Warren?" He replies.   
  
"Oh, I was just wondering. Me and Ed...we're tight, man." I say doing the classic Chez head nod.   
  
"I see..." He says smiling. "You know what, guys? I'm actually really looking forward to the rest of my time here. You Stuckeyville kids seem pretty cool."   
  
He called me cool!   
  
Uh, I mean us.   
  
"Thanks, Mr. Saunders."   
  
"Yeah, no problem, Mark. You three especially remind me a lot of myself and the friends I had back in High School."   
  
"You've got to be kidding me," I say in shock. There's no way this man right here was like me in High School. No way.   
  
"No, really!" He says with a laugh. "I actually moved to the US from France when I was a Freshman, and I guess you could say the 'popular clique' didn't really accept the skinny little french boy. But that didn't bother me. I made some amazing friends in High School that I still keep in touch with. And I guess sports kind of broke the ice between me and some of those other kids that I thought hated me. Oh man, sorry for making you guys walk down memory lane with me."   
  
"You're from France?" Diane asks, in awe. "You don't even have an accent."   
  
"Yeah, well...I can whip it out when I really want to." He says with a grin.   
  
Dude, I can do that with a British accent. I hear the chicks really dig guys with accents.   
  
"Do it!" Diane exclaims giddily. Whoa there girl, calm yourself.   
  
"I don't think so." He says, laughing. "You guys should probably get to class..."   
  
"Oh crap!" I exclaim, smacking my head and motioning to Mark. "Dude, we need to get out _fast_!"  
  
There's no way I'm going to be late to my first class with the woman of my dreams. The first impression is what always lasts, that's what they say...  
  
"See ya later Mr. Saunders," I call over my shoulder as I practically sprint out the door and down the hall.   
  
"Calm down, Cheswick. You're never on time to class anyway." Mark calls out from behind me.   
  
"Yeah, that's exactly the problem!" I exclaim as I round the corner. Damn these cursed stairwells.   
  
I jump them two at a time and swing through the doors and go to my left.   
  
Somehow my ass finds a seat a second before the bell rings.   
  
Breathe in, breathe out. Come on, catch it...catch it...  
  
Being out of breathe is definitely not hot. Definitely not.   
  
There we go. You got this Warren, you got this...  
  
Holy sh-t, I don't got this.   
  
There she is.   
  
Walking through the door, with Diane and Mark right behind her. She's so incredibly glorious. Good God. Just answer me this: How can someone be so amazingly perfect? Her hair is the perfect degree of bouncy and it curls out in a way that makes you just think, "My God, she can't be real." The white v-neck sweater she's wearing hugs her body perfectly -- not too tight, not too loose. I'm in heaven. I have died and gone to heaven and she is an angel, leading me to this other world of utter perfection...  
  
"Warren...Warren!!" Mark nudges me and is whispering my name loudly. Why does he always have to ruin my wonderful day dreams?  
  
"Mark--"   
  
"Ah yes, Warren. I think we've met already, haven't we?" She's speaking to me. Oh God, she's speaking to me. What do I do? How do you speak again? I can't seem to move my lips...I could try to lift my hands and start speaking in sign language...  
  
Dammit, I don't know sign language!  
  
SPEAK!  
  
"Yes."   
  
I'm a failure. A complete and utter failure. I don't deserve to even be graced by this beauiful maiden's presence. I might as well just sink into my seat and act like nothing happened. Atleast I'll still be able to watch her...Bask in the glory that is Sydney Hanton.  
  
"Okay, let me see if I can get this right on the first try...we've got Warren. Mark. Diane. Christopher. Janie..."  
  
Sigh.   
  
Three words: Glory Glory Hallelujah.   
  
~~~  
  
[Syd's POV]  
  
"Chapters one through three by tomorrow!" I call out to the herd of teenagers that are frantically stampeding through the door. Am I really that boring? Well, I guess when you're seventeen and eighteen everything is boring but the opposite sex.   
  
That doesn't necessarily change with age...  
  
I sit down at my desk (How wierd is that? My desk. Ha.) and look down at my schedule book. Kids are still filing out as I catch a glimpse of a student who looks quite out of place, raise his hand from his seat.   
  
I raise my head and a huge grin spreads across my face.   
  
What is he doing here? It's definitely 1:15...  
  
"Ms. Hanton?" He calls out, lowering his hand as he stands up. "I had a question about the reading for tonight."   
  
"And what might that be, Michael?" I ask, sauntering over to the other side of my desk, leaning against the front.   
  
"I don't plan on doing it." He says simply, placing his hands on my waist as he brings his face closer to mine.   
  
"And why might that be?" I ask.  
  
"See, my girlfriend is really..._demanding_ in bed..."   
  
"Oh really?" I ask, a laugh barely escaping my mouth before I'm cut off by his lips on mine. Wow. I've kissed him about a million times since our first one outside the Smiling Goat a couple days ago, but he never ceases to amaze me. That bolt of electricity that shoots between us gives me a rush unlike anything I've ever experienced in my life. I can't help but wonder if this is what love feels like without any restrictions.   
  
"What are you doing here?" I ask, grinning like a fool as we pull apart. I watch him as he walks around my desk, sits in my chair and leans back.   
  
"I came to visit you of course." He says, playing with the pencil on my desk.   
  
"Clearly," I say, rolling my eyes. "I mean, why aren't you at _work_?"  
  
"I am at work." He says grinning. You mean...  
  
"You're teaching here too?!" I ask excitedly. "Why didn't you tell me?!"   
  
"You never asked," he replies happily.   
  
"I never knew you were interested in teaching." I say, walking to where he is, leaning on the desk.   
  
"I'm not. But I figured it couldn't be that bad. I enjoyed High School and I love European History so I might as well go for it. It's definitely better than working with Phil and Shirley and Eli at the Stuckeybowl."   
  
"I'll give you that," I respond, laughing as he pulls me onto his lap. "Michael, what if the students see us?" Yeah, seeing your teacher sitting on your other teacher's lap making out would be more than a little bit creepy to me if I were a student.  
  
"Who cares?" He retorts with a chuckle as he pulls me into another kiss.   
  
Yeah, I have to second the 'Who cares?'  
  
I'm pretty sure I'm still in another world when he leans in and whispers in my ear.  
  
"I have free this period, and I know you do too...There's a janitor's closet a couple doors down..."   
  
I giggle (don't get me started on the resurgence of the giggle in Sydney Bristow's life...Or Hanton...whatever) and slap his chest playfully.   
  
"Michael, I think that would be overstepping our boundries...Office protocol..." I say, smiling as I feel his lips on my neck. This definitely can't be in accordance with school regulation...  
  
"Screw protocol," he says, grinning against my neck. I laugh as I pull his head up to face me.   
  
"Good one, _Mikey_ --" All of a sudden, I hear a faint cough from my doorway. A meager attempt (to say the least) at a clearing of the throat. I blush deeply as I get off Michael's lap and straighten my clothes and look up to see who it is.   
  
Warren.   
  
And he looks heartbroken. Oh God...  
  
~~~  
  
[Warren's POV]   
  
I don't think I can breathe.   
  
No, I definitely can't breathe.   
  
All I know is...  
  
This is war.   
  
ALL OUT F--KING WAR.   
  
Which kinda sucks, come to think about it, because I really like Mr. Saunders. Too bad his ass will be _kicked_ Warren P. Cheswick style, come tomorrow night. Indeed.  
  
"Oh, Warren, uhh...Did you have a question?" Ms. Hanton asks me. She looks flustered. Yup, she probably would be after all that mackin'.   
  
Mr. Saunders gets up and clears his throat. He walks around the table and touches my woman's hand as he says some sort of goodbye. The bastard.   
  
"See ya, Warren." I don't know what his strategy is, but it must involve being obscenely nice. He smiles at me nicely as he makes his way out. Even pats me on the back. How dare he lay a finger upon me?! That's it.   
  
That's. It.   
  
"So...?"   
  
I shake my head, trying to remember what lame excuse I was going to use to see Ms. Hanton. But I can't remember anything; my mind is blank and all I can see is the future Mrs. Warren Cheswick sitting on Mr. Saunders's lap, laughing and kissing.   
  
I think I'm gonna puke. This wasn't supposed to happen.   
  
"I'm sorry, Ms...Uhhh...Hanton...Uh...I realized I didn't write our assignment down, I was hoping you could tell me what it...Uh...was again...?"  
  
That's horrible. Just horrible.   
  
"Yeah, It's chapters one through three. For tomorrow." She smiles at me as if nothing just happened. As if she didn't just break my heart into a million tiny little peices, light them on fire, and stomp all over the ashes. I'm hopeless.   
  
"Thanks," I say turning around quickly and not turning back.   
  
Time for a strategy change. I don't know what I'm going to do, and I don't know how, but I definitely know who to go to for help.   
  
Ed.   
  
**END CHAPTER TEN**  



	11. Temporary Scars

****

Chapter Eleven - Temporary Scars  
  
_You ask for walls  
I´ll build them higher  
We´ll lie in shadows of them all  
I´d stand but they´re much too tall  
And I fall  
February stars  
Floating in the dark  
Temporary scars...  
  
"February Stars," Foo Fighters_  
  
[Syd's POV]  
  
_Wednesday -- Noon_  
  
"Why hello ladies," Michael greets us as he sits down in the seat beside me. If there's one thing I love about my new role as Stuckeyville High teacher, it's definitely lunch period. Especially when I can spend it with Michael.   
  
He takes his jacket off, puts it on the back of his chair then leans over and gives me a kiss.  
  
I don't think I'll ever get used to this.   
  
He pulls away smiling and picks up a menu. I'm pretty sure I'm blushing...And it actually feels good.   
  
"Awww, you guys are so cute!" Molly says dreamily.   
  
"It's strange to be able to do this, isn't it, Syd?" He asks, looking up from his menu and over to me.   
  
"Yeah," I must look like the biggest idiot ever. I can't help it though, this is everything I've ever wished for times a kajillion. Yes, a kajillion. "Yeah it is."   
  
"What are you guys talking about? That's what any normal couple does. Being all lovey dovey...Not being able to take your hands off of each other. That's why it's so much fun!" Ha, if only Carol knew...  
  
"Exactly." Michael says laughing.   
  
"_What_ are you guys talking about?" Molly asks, genuinely confused.   
  
"It's a really really really really long story," I say waving my hand in front of me, "you guys wouldn't want to hear it." And I wouldn't particularly enjoy resurfacing my inner demons and pains in this glorious Candyland-esque place. It would certainly frighten the locals.   
  
I think Michael sensed my hesitance because he's backing me up on this one.   
  
"Let's just leave it at that things were different in LA. A lot different."   
  
Different? No, I don't think things were different. Things were unbearable. _Life_ was unbearable. When I thought all I had left in me was pain and hatred and darkness, Michael came along and changed that.   
  
Maybe it will be good for me to talk about it. I don't think I have ever really and truly discussed my past with anyone. Not even Michael. And a part of me would rather let it all out and bear my soul to these women that I know I can trust and that I also know will listen to me and help me talk it out.   
  
"Hey, Syd, we were thinking about having a kind of Girls Night In of sorts. My place; Me, Molly, and Nancy...Tomorrow night actually, since we don't have to worry about class on Friday. You in?" Carol asks, sticking a french fry into her mouth.   
  
Girls night in? Okay, if I weren't here in the middle of a fairly crowded restaurant during lunch hour with Michael at my side, I'd let out a shriek audible only to dogs. Well, I could do it anyway seeing that no one would be able to hear it, but it would probably be embarassing (to say the least).   
  
How cool! We can give each other facials and manicures and talk about boys and...  
  
"Yeah, I'm definitely in!" I say excitedly.   
  
Whoa there, tiger. Note to self: restrain your excitement around others. Atleast they think you're normal and you want to keep it that way. The one exception: when you're around Michael. Then you must channel all your excitement to--  
  
"How rude. I _am_ sitting right here, and I'm offended at the fact that I've been excluded from your little outing." How adorable is he?  
  
"And it's not really an 'outing' per se," Molly starts, waving a fork in Michael's face, "seeing that we won't be going out...I guess you could call it an 'inning.'"   
  
"I'm sorry, Michael, girls only." Carol says sweetly.   
  
"Yeah, _Michael_," I retort mockingly. I never knew he was such a seeker of attention. But I'm not compaining.   
  
"This is sexism and I don't have to tolerate it." He shakes his head stubbornly, putting his menu down on the table.   
  
"Sexism, eh?" Molly grins.   
  
"Speaking of sex, rumor around the school is that you're the guy all the girls are drooling over." That glint in Carol's eye is quite sketchy, if I do say so myself.   
  
"Smooth transition, Carol, real smooth," Molly jokes with a laugh.   
  
Wow, she took the words right out of my mouth. What a way to change the subject.   
  
"What?" I ask, suddenly interested. I never was too fond of hormone driven young teenagers. Hold up, am I _jealous_ of these teenagers? I, the one who is actually sleeping with Michael, am jealous of these lowly high schoolers? How pathetic am I? What the Hell has come over you, Sydney?  
  
You could kick thier asses any day of the week, anyway.   
  
"Well, I just happened to catch a note getting passed around my third period class. It basically talked about how 'dreamy' and 'sexy' the new _Mr. Saunders_ was...and it actually highlighted your best features. I definitely think they're right. The eyes are a killer."   
  
He is beyond adorable when he's embarassed. His face gets all red and he looks down...  
  
"Yeah, Syd, your man is all the talk around the water fountain." Molly, that's not the only place where he's 'all the talk.' Yes, that's me trying to make a lame sexual innuendo but failing miserably.   
  
"I guess you'll have to tell them my heart belongs to someone else..."   
  
You bet it belongs to someone else. And they'd have to pry it from my cold dead hands. Ugh, nasty mental image.   
  
~~~  
  
_Stuckeybowl -- Wednesday Afternoon_  
  
[Warren's POV]  
  
"Ed, my dear man, I have a proposition for you." I say, charging into Ed's office.   
  
"Warren...Hey." Ed looks up from his papers somewhat startled by my sudden entrance. "What's up?"   
  
"Like I said, I have a proposition for you. I need information on this Michael Saunders guy. Rumor has it, you guys were tight in college. But I need the real dirt. Physical weaknesses, flaws in character or morals...stuff like that. In return, I will be your indentured servant for all of time."   
  
That might have been a little much...don't want to come off as desperate.   
  
Clearly Ed is amused by my emotional distress.   
  
"What did he do now?" Ed asks, laughing.   
  
"What _didn't_ he do?" I respond, plopping down into the chair in front of his desk. The man has essentially ruined my life. It will never be the same...How am I supposed to win Sydney over after she's been with _him_? I'll forever be compared to the God-like Michael.   
  
"Wow, this must be pretty bad," Ed says, getting up and walking around his desk.   
  
"Two words: Sydney Hanton." I say simply. Is he supressing laughter? Because if he's supressing laughter there's no way I'll supress this urge to open up a can of whoop ass on his sorry self -- Cheswick-style!  
  
Who am I kidding? I'd probably laugh it off and pretend like nothing happened.   
  
"Oh, so this is over a woman," Ed shakes his head and leans against the front of his desk.   
  
"Not just any woman, Ed. This is the woman of my dreams -- The future Mrs. Warren Cheswick. It's fate, Ed. Her coming to Stuckeyville and me -- It's just fate. We are _meant_ to be together. So I need you to give me all the dirt on this guy so I can figure out some sort of plan of action."   
  
He's furrowing his eyebrows. The man is in deep thought, I can tell. It was genius of me to come here. Ed is _the man_.   
  
"Warren, you're really making this a lot harder than it has to be. You're going to do what any classy guy would: challenge him to a duel."   
  
He's a genius. This man is a freakin genius.   
  
"Why didn't I think of that myself?" I wonder out loud. "But wait, what will we duel with?"   
  
"Sorry, Warren, that's not my decision to make. My services here are done."   
  
"Thanks, man. That's all I needed." I say, getting up and going towards the door.   
  
"No problem, Warren. I'm glad I could help."   
  
Wait a second -- Stuckeybowl. I'll stage the duel at the Stuckeybowl. Brilliance. I would do a bowling duel, but we all know what a crappy bowler I am...  
  
"Ed, do you think I can stage our little duel, here perhaps? Friday afternoon?"  
  
Thank God for three day weekends.   
  
"Sure thing."   
  
That tan Frenchman has no idea what he's in for. No idea.   
  
~~~  
  
_Thursday Night_  
  
[Vaughn's POV]  
  
"The kid challenged me to a duel!" I exclaim, chucking the note Warren left for me after class at Ed.   
  
And I thought he was warming up to me!  
  
"Really?" Okay, Ed, that is beyond suspicious.   
  
"Ed...You didn't have anything to do with this, did you? And don't even consider lying because you're a horrible liar."   
  
Seriously, he is. Sometimes I think its probably best that he didn't carry through with a career in the CIA.   
  
"The boy came to me for help, I couldn't just turn him down." Ed replies, shrugging.   
  
"So you told him to challenge me to a duel?!"   
  
"I thought it would be the most gentlemanly way to go about things," he says reading the note. "Ha, 'to win the love of Ms. Sydney Hanton.'"  
  
"A challenge is a challenge, Michael. Sometimes you just have to respond to the call of duty." Mike says, shaking his head.   
  
"Okay, I'm _not_ going to duel this kid _to the death_. I'm just not going to." This kid is crazy. He must really have it bad for Sydney.   
  
"Just humor him, Mike, what's the big deal?" Ed asks, sympathetically.   
  
"I'm not going to fight for Sydney's affections. Last time I checked, she wasn't a prize or a piece of meat."  
  
"Since when did you become Mr. Women Aren't Prized Possessions?" Ed asks. Dude, since always. Always.   
  
" That doesn't matter. First of all, he's a teenager. Second of all, there's absolutely no contest."   
  
"Don't be so sure," Mike says, tossing the paper back to me. "Warren's got charisma. And he always has something up his sleeve."   
  
"And the boys got spunk. Don't count the spunk out. It's always the spunk that get's ya. Spunk."   
  
You've got to be kidding me.   
  
~~~  
  
_Carol's House_  
  
[Syd's POV]  
  
"You're so telling us the whole story from the beginning. We don't care how long it is. It's seven o'clock, we've been fed, and we're ready to spend the rest of the night listening to you if we must."   
  
My heart is screaming "Yes!" but my brain keeps saying "Hell no!" in a really sassy way. Yes, the tone is vital to understanding how I feel right now.   
  
I think my heart has won out this time. I know so much about these guys, yet they know practically nothing about me. It would only be fair...  
  
"Okay, fine," I sigh, pretending to be defeated, but secretly celebrating. I don't worry about bugs because the place is clean. I checked it before dinner, just in case. I'm not suprised. "Where should I start?"   
  
"The beginning would be good," Molly says, smiling.  
  
"Well then, I guess I should start by saying that I wasn't always a CIA agent..."   
  
It takes me atleast half an hour just to explain what SD-6 is. I knew this would take awhile. They all seem riveted by my story and I can't hlep but feel a little guilty for revealing the evils of the world to these untainted women.  
  
"So I guess it all really started with Danny." I say, lowering my voice. It's been a long time since I've talked about him.  
  
"Who's Danny?" Carol asks.   
  
"Danny was my fiancee."   
  
Simultaneously, the three of them snap their heads up to me.   
  
"You were engaged?!" Molly exclaims in shock. I nod my head slowly and start to continue.   
  
"When I worked for SD-6, Danny proposed to me. Of course I said yes, I could never say no to Danny. But I didn't want to start our marriage off with lies. I just felt like it was my responsibility to tell him the truth. So I told him that I was a spy. That I worked forn a covert branch of the CIA called SD-6." I pause for a moment to regain my composure before continuing. "When I was out on a mission, he called my machine. Left a message..."   
  
"Oh God," I hear Molly breathe. THe images are coming back so vividly...  
  
Tears begin to flow out of my eyes as I start to recount the scene.   
  
"I came home...The apartment was a wreck. I searched for Danny everywhere. Then I reached the bathroom, and that's when I saw him. Lying in the tub...drenched in his own blood. They had him killed."   
  
I feel my body heave with sobs when suddenly Carol is at my side, holding me tightly. Molly's sitting on the other side of me and Nancy's kneeling in front. The tears begin to subside and I continue.   
  
"That's when I learned the truth. SD-6 really wasn't a part of the CIA -- I was working for the enemy. My father...he had lied to me my whole life. He was really a CIA agent inside SD-6. It was at that moment I knew what i had to do. I had to join the CIA and work to bring down SD-6. Bring down Arvin Sloane...For Danny. And that's when I met Michael Vaughn."   
  
I smile sadly at them, but I think they are still in shock.   
  
"It sounds like a cruel joke, doesn't it?" I say, looking down once again. "That's what scared the sh-t out of me at first. The fact that I could be so happy with this man that I wouldn't have even known existed if Danny wasn't killed. But then, I just realized that if Danny had lived, I'd still be working for SD-6, with no clue as to what it really was. Thinking I was a good guy -- a patriot. I loved Danny very much, and yes, he was an innocent bystander in all of this, but knowing what I know now, I'd never go back to my life the way it was before. Never."   
  
We sit in silence until Carol's sniffle breaks it. "Sydney this is--"   
  
"Crazy, I know," I say laughing bitterly. "And that's just the prolouge."   
  
"Oh God," Nancy says, wiping her tears away.   
  
"Do you still want to hear the rest?" I ask, wearily.   
  
"Are you kidding? You can't just leave us hanging. Plus, we know there's a happy ending so..."   
  
Is this really what this is? My happy ending?  
  
~~~  
  
_Later that Night_  
  
"Oh my God, Syd, oh my God!" Carol exclaims in shock. "You're life is crazy. _Crazy_!"   
  
I raise my eyebrows and nod my head knowingly.   
  
"That's why it's so amazing to be here...to live a normal life for once." She's right, it has been crazy. And after experiencing life in Stuckeyvillee, I know what I've missed out on all these years.   
  
"With Michael." Nancy says dreamily.   
  
"I know, isn't it great?" I don't know how the giddy words escape my mouth, but they do. "I don't think I really realized how much I cared about him until that night in Taipei. The look in his eyes through the glass as the door closed...the thud of his body against the cold steel. I really thought I lost him, I really did."   
  
"I can't even imagine," Carol sighs as she pops some popcorn into her mouth.   
  
"And the virus! Oh man, it must have been horrible to see him like that," Nancy adds.   
  
"Trust me, you have no idea. Absolutely no idea." I say, shaking my head.   
  
"Well, thank goodness he had you to save him," Molly says, nudging me and wiggling her eyebrows. I shrug my shoulders shyly. These girls give me way more credit than I deserve.   
  
"Or else you wouldn't have that green eyed hottie sitting at home waiting for you," Carol jokes.   
  
"God, Syd, let me just tell you, if I wasn't married, I'd so go after Michael. Hell I considered it anyway!" We all laugh. Huh, so amazingly strange.   
  
"Trust me, you haven't even seen anything yet...When he speaks French? Uh-uh, I don't think so..." I say, unable to stop my self from giggling uncontrollably.   
  
"Good Lord, don't even tell me..." Carol says, shaking her head.   
  
"What about in bed? Is he good in bed?" Molly asks, grinning. "I bet he's _great_ in bed."   
  
I look up at them then down at the ground. This is a very personal fact, I don't know if I should just be throwing it around...  
  
"He is _amazing_ in bed. No, he is beyond amazing. He could very well be the best I've ever had..."   
  
We all giggle like little teenagers and I know right here, right now, I never want it to end. There's such a rush you get when you can just hang out with the girls and chat about stuff...including your uber-sexy boyfriend.   
  
Boyfriend. He's my boyfriend. If that's not freaky, I don't know what is.   
  
"In all seriousness, you are my hero, Sydney, you really and truly are." No, no Molly. I'm not a hero...I'm anything but...  
  
I laugh shyly and nudge her.   
  
This was exactly what I needed. A release. Something that would let me move on with my life.   
  
"Thank you guys so much. You don't understand how good this was for me."   
  
Now I can live my life the way it was meant to be lived. Looking towards the future and not towards the past.   
  
~~~  
  
I slowly creep towards the bed, and slip in beside Michael. I feel fresh tears fall from my eyes as he instinctively wraps his arm around me. I sniffle softly, and he immediately speaks up.   
  
"Hey, you okay?" He asks, concerned.   
  
I turn around in his arms and hold his face. "This _is_ my happy ending." I say before kissing him. We slowly pull apart and I feel a smile spread across my face. "I'm great."   
  
"Good." He replies smiling. "Because we're going to going to the Stuckeybowl tomorrow at one, because I have to duel Warren Cheswick. The winner basically gets you. Good night!" He finishes quickly.   
  
"WHAT?!"  
  
**END CHAPTER ELEVEN**  



	12. Aurora

Author's Note:  
  
Au·ro·ra - Noun  
  
1. A luminous atmospheric phenomenon appearing as streamers or bands of light sometimes visible in the night sky in northern or southern regions of the earth. It is thought to be caused by charged particles from the sun entering the earth's magnetic field and stimulating molecules in the atmosphere.   
2. The dawn.   
  
  
**Chapter Twelve - Aurora**  
  
_Take me now, we can spin the sun around  
And the stars will all come out  
Then we'll turn and come back down  
Turn and come back down  
  
"Aurora," Foo Fighters_  
  
[Vaughn's POV]  
  
"Wait, Michael, explain this to me again. Why are you dueling Warren Cheswick?" Syd asks confused as we quickly get out of the car and make our way towards the Stuckeybowl.   
  
To defend your honor. Duh.   
  
Yeah, can't say that...  
  
"I don't know...I didn't want to but Ed told me to just humor the kid. What will it hurt? It'll be funny. It's not like we're _actually_ going to fight to the death..." I say shrugging my shoulders.   
  
"Michael, you do realize that you are _sixteen_ years older than this boy? You are a full grown adult and he is a _child_. I just thought you might have forgotten since your mind's clouded by all that testosterone floating around in there."   
  
"Hey, don't knock the testosterone. You know you love the testosterone."   
  
I laugh as she rolls her eyes and sighs. I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her close right in front of the door.   
  
"Hey," I say softly. There's no way I'm going to battle for her honor without her full-fledged support. "You're not _really_ angry at me, are you?"  
  
She looks away, but I'm pretty sure that's a smile growing on her face...I knew it! What woman _wouldn't_ want two guys vying for her affections? Especially if _I_ am one of them...  
  
I reach out and turn her face towards me and smile.   
  
"How am I supposed to be mad at this face?" She asks, holding my face in her hands. I knew the undeniably good looks of my parents would come to my advantage eventually. Vaughn family genes -- get's 'em everytime.  
  
"You're not." I reply, raising my eyebrows as I lean in for kiss. I can't even put into words how unbelievable it is that I'm standing here with Sydney, kissing her like she's been my girlfriend here in Stuckeyville forever. It's just amazing.   
  
"My, my, someone's gotten a little cocky haven't they?" She asks with a grin as we pull away.   
  
"It's the testosterone, I'm tellin' ya." I say, wiggling my eyebrows as I watch Syd's face change into a bright shade of red. I grin to myself for actually making her blush as I turn to the door and open it. As we walk through the doors, I feel a hand smack my ass and I turn around startled.   
  
"Go get 'em, tiger," she says seductively.   
  
Good Lord. Where did _that_ come from?! A shocker indeed, but there's no denying how much I enjoyed it. Ow-ow...Hit me baby one more time.   
  
Yeah, definitely one step too far.   
  
Seriously. The line is here, and I'm about 300 miles north of it. That's how far over the line I am.   
  
Good thing I have this amazing ability to remain somewhat calm while these crazy-ass things go through my head...  
  
I smile and nod towards her before I turn around and head over to the shoe rentals where Ed, Mike and Warren are. I turn again to catch one last glance of Syd sitting down with the girls before I go to talk to the guys. And Warren.   
  
You know you've got it bad when you're dueling with a seventeen year old boy for another woman's affections.   
  
Woman? No, Syd's not a woman -- She's a Goddess.   
  
Yeah, I've got it really _really_ bad.   
  
"Hey, man, Looking rights are reserved only for the victor." Warren says, shoving a finger into my face.   
  
"Okay, Warren, I'm here and I'm willing to go along with you're little game, but let's just get this straight: She's not a prize. She's a person. And I can look at her as much as I want to." Why am I so possessive? And why do I suddenly feel like a father reprimanding his son? This is so not right.   
  
"Yes, sir." Warren says, backing down immediately. Oh God, now he's wimpering like a scared dog. Normally the guilt would be coming now, but there's a part of me that really wants to kick this guy's ass.   
  
"Hey, hey, hey," Ed intervenes, "save it for the ring."   
  
"Ring?! What ring?!" I ask in shock. There's no way I'm going to box this kid. No way. I would put him into a coma for weeks and there's no chance I'm going to deal with his parents and the hospital bills.   
  
"Michael, Michael, Michael," Warren says, shaking his head disdainfully as he sits up onto the counter, "did you not get the memo?"   
  
I shoot him a glare and that defeated look overtakes his face once again.   
  
"Mr. Saunders...I meant, Mr. Saunders..." I hear him reply faintly as Mike leads the way toward the Stuckeybowl's makeshift "ring."   
  
"You, my friend, will be participating in a duel of astromonic proportions." Mike replies, walking towards Ed's office and coming out with two giant Sumo wrestler suits in his hands. "The duel of the century, per se."   
  
"No." I say immediately. Me plus Sumo wrestler suits equals madness. Seriously. "No, no, no, no. I'm not going to make a fool out of myself like that. Not a chance in Hell."   
  
"In case you've forgotten, old pal, you've done far more embarassing things in your time." Ed will never let me live out of anything will he? "And, I seem to recall a fairly young Michael enjoying the fat suit very much."   
  
"Okay, fine." I say quickly. Atleast I know there'll be no contest and no way I can hurt the kid. "But one match, that's it. If you lose, no rematch."   
  
"Yippee!" Warren exclaims, hopping like a bunny on crack towards the suit. "You, my not so worthy opponent, are the one who has to worry about not winning. You are in for the ass kicking of the millenium."   
  
Ha! I've brought guys down twice his size.   
  
And no, I'm not talking about in real life, even though I have. The suit renders people helpless, I mean it. You need true prowess over the faux-fat to excell. And I have that.   
  
"He doesn't know what he's in for, does he?" I ask Ed under my breath.   
  
"He has absolutely no clue." Ed says with a huge grin glued to his face.   
  
I shake my head sadly before heading towards the suit. The poor boy has no idea what he's gotten himself into. It's quite sad when you really think about it. I pick up the suit, take my shoes off before starting to get into it. I turn my head around to look across the room, where I hear catcalls and whistling coming from Syd, Nancy, Molly, and Carol.   
  
"Ha, ha." I say sarcastically.   
  
"I'm sorry ladies, but my heart is reserved for one woman, and one woman alone." Warren says turning around to face them also. Is he blowing a kiss to Sydney? I don't think so. Oh man, I'm jealous of a seventeen year old. This is pathetic. But I don't care because I'm clearly going to kick his ass like no other.   
  
I start to stretch my arms and familiarize myself with the suit once again. This must be quite a sight. All I have to say is thank God Weiss isn't here.   
  
Ed comes over and places the headgear on me, and smacks my head.   
  
"I know you were behind this, Ed, and you're so going to pay. When you least expect it." I say threateningly. Atleast it sounds threateningly in my head, but comes out more pathetic-sounding. Dammit.   
  
"Sure, Mike, sure." He says with a grin before walking towards Warren.   
  
Syd is never going to let me forget this. Never. I just know it. What would Devlin think of me? What if he just happened to walk through the door right now and see me dressed up as a giant Sumo wrestler about to "duel" Warren. I wouldn't just be thrown out of the CIA but I'd be stripped of all traces of self respect I've ever had, too.   
  
Before I know it, a bell rings and all I see is Warren charging at me. I shake my head sadly and move at the last minute, sending Warren swinging into thin air. This boy is way too eager.   
  
No contest.   
  
I dance around him a little more, he has no clue how to go about this, does he? After a couple minutes of wearing him down, I make my move. I hunch down for a moment, honing in on the exact part of his "stomache" that I'm going to ram my shoulder into without hurting him too seriously. Then I charge at him and hit his suit with a thump and pin him to the ground. I hear him gasp for breath so I get up and lean down.   
  
"You okay?" I ask, genuinely concerned. There's no way he could be seriously hurt because I'm not that stupid. But he's also not a full-grown man, gotta remember that.   
  
"Yeah, yeah," he says, starting to get up.   
  
"Good," I reply, bodyslaming him to the ground once again.   
  
I hear the faint roar of the crowd in the background and can't help but smile at the hilarity of the situation I'm currenly im. Definitely the most fun I've had in a long time.   
  
"You still cool?" I ask as I stand back up.   
  
"Uh-huh," Warren responds, shaking his head on the ground.   
  
Thank God. It couldn't have been that bad anyway...We have inches of padding in between us...  
  
I think I've put the boy through enough of this. I could unleash a world of hurt on him, but what's the use? He still is my student, and I still want him to like me, despite all this. So, I bend down and pick him up, slinging him over my shoulder. Geez, he's literally skin and bones.   
  
I take him off my shoulder and place him down, on his feet, outside the circle.   
  
"You sure you're okay?" I ask again.   
  
"Yeah, yeah, don't worry about it." He says, taking his head gear off.   
  
"Alright," I say before turning back around to Ed, raising my hands in victory.   
  
"And we have a winner!" Ed exclaims inbetween laughs. He walks over to Sydney and puts his arm out so she can take it. This is insanity.   
  
I take my headgear off and begin to take the suit off as Sydney approaches.   
  
"Leave it on, I think it's hot." She says with a grin.   
  
"Oh, really? I never knew you had a thing for Sumo wrestlers." I retort.   
  
"Well, I must admit that it was indeed very fun to watch." She says, still grinning as she walks around me to help me with the zipper on the back of my suit. "And it was kinda cool to see you 'do your thing,' as Ed says."   
  
"Oh God, did he tell you?" I ask, dreading her response.   
  
"Everything." She says, now laughing. "Sumo wrestling champion? You could take guys down with your eyes closed and drunk? That's pretty sad...How did you get to be Phi Beta Kappa again?"   
  
I just laugh and sling an arm around her shoulder.   
  
"Some people are just born gifted, I suppose."   
  
"So I hope you got some sort of ego boost out of taking a kid down and crushing his hopes and dreams," she jokes as I put my shoes back on.   
  
"Of course, I did. You don't understand the incredible rush of crushing a boy's hopes and dreams. You should really try it sometime."   
  
She shoves me and at times like this, you really have to marvel at the utter abnormality of this normalcy. Too cool.   
  
I turn around as Warren approches me. Suprisingly, he doesn't look too sad or defeated. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing...  
  
"Good match, Mr. Saunders. You can really pack some power in your punch can't ya?" Warren laughs, reaching a hand out to me. I shake it, and nod my head humbly.   
  
"I have to admit, I had a little bit of experience," I say.   
  
"Well, I just wanted to say that it was a match well fought, and I'm glad you gave me the opportunity to win your girlfriend's heart. Even if it didn't work." Ah, there's the sadness that I expected to see sooner.   
  
"Aww, Warren, you'll always have a special spot in my heart," Syd says sweetly, walking over to Warren and placing a kiss on his cheek. I could have sworn the boy's heart stopped beating. He's not moving...I'm starting to think he's just gone into cardiac arrest...  
  
Someone get a doctor for Godssake!  
  
"What about me?" I whisper to Syd.   
  
"You'll always have a special spot in my bed." She says with a grin, prompting me to laugh.   
  
"Is that all I am to you?" She turns around and looks deep in my eyes. Despite the playful expression on both of our faces, we both know the real answer.   
  
I shake my head and look towards Warren who is still apparently in shock. I motion towards Warren, and Syd looks back towards him.   
  
"Warren?" Sydney asks, moving her hand in front of his face. He suddenly shakes his head and there's a smile unlike anything I have ever seen in my life on his face. He's damn happy. And that's an understatement.   
  
He turns around and begins to bolt towards the door, but stops suddenly and returns to us.   
  
"This won't, like, affect my grade at all, will it?" He asks out of breath.   
  
"No," I reply with a smile.   
  
"Okay, awesome. And thanks Mr. Saunders...and Ms. Hanton." He says, staring dreamily at Syd before bolting back out towards the door.   
  
"Warren! Don't forget to pick up these suits!" Ed calls out after him, but he's gone before he is even able to get the sentence out.   
  
"Excellent fight." I turn around and am face to face with Phil.   
  
"Thank you," I say, uneasy.   
  
"Would you like to star in my upcoming reality TV show?" Phil asks suspiciously.   
  
"Um, no, I don't think so..." I reply.   
  
"Well then, fine. Be that way. When you see it sweeping the nation like the next Joe Millionare, you'll regret it." He says walking away.   
  
Yeah, that Phil is really strange.   
  
"Bosco, do you think I can keep those suits?" He asks, walking towards Ed.   
  
"Why do you want to keep the suits, Phil?" Ed asks exasperatedly.   
  
"I'm sorry but that's classified information." Phil says, picking up the one suit from the counter.   
  
"Phil..." Ed says warningly.   
  
"Let's just say, don't be too suprised if I'm out of Stuckeyville within the next few months and my face is all over NBC as the latest senation to take the nation by storm."   
  
"Let's go." Shirley says. I don't know how she got behind Phil, because she definitely wasn't there a second ago, and I didn't see her coming...Yeah, she really scares me. And I also don't know how she got my Sumo suit on so fast...  
  
"Thanks, Bosco," He says picking up the second Sumo suit and walking towards the other end of Stuckeybowl. Just as they leave, I see Ely roll by on his wheelchair with a videocamera on his shoulder.   
  
"Yo, wait up, guys."   
  
I turn to Syd, who can't hide her laughter. God, she's beautiful.   
  
The duel was so worth it.   
  
But she doesn't know what she got herself into by giving Warren that kiss...  
  
"So, wha--" I start as Sydney turns her face towards me with a smile. All of sudden, my cell phone goes off. We both look towards my jacket on the counter and our eyes meet, both pairs full of concern.   
  
"Get it." She says immediately in a serious tone.   
  
I race towards my jacket and search the pockets for my phone. As I pull it out I turn around and watch Sydney walk towards the gang and talk to them looking quite distressed, to say the least.   
  
"Hello?" I answer.   
  
"Hey, Vaughn." It's Will. How the Hell did he get this number? This can't be safe...  
  
"Will, how did you get this number?" I ask loudly so Syd can hear.   
  
"Will?" She asks, suddenly even more concerned as she walks towards me. "What happened? Is everything alright?"   
  
I nod my head reassuringly despite the fact that I have absolutely no clue.   
  
"Don't worry, it's completely safe. I'm actually on a plane on my way to that town you guys are at in Ohio...Stuckey-something..."   
  
"Stuckeyville? Why? What happened?" I ask. F--k. As much as I like Will and think he's a cool guy, there's no denying the degree of awkwardness him being with me and Sydney here would be. Not to mention having to deal with his cover...I was kind of just hoping it could just be me and Sydney. Why couldn't they have sent Will to some other unknown town in America?!  
  
Now I'm just being irrational.   
  
"I don't know, man. Jack came to my place yesterday and told me that he could secure Francie's safety, because he really had to seeing that she doesn't know anything about this...But with me it was different. Since I got mixed up with Sloane and SD-6 earlier, it makes me a bigger target. And he said I should just get out now before anything could really happen."   
  
"They haven't come after you, have they?" I ask, concerned. Now this is a serious matter. There's no time for petty, childish behavior.   
  
"Michael," Sydney pleads, her hand over her mouth.   
  
I shake my head and hold my hand out towards her. I try to mouth to her that it's alright, but I don't think she understands.   
  
"No, thank God. He said he just wanted to play it safe because something was happening...I'm sorry, I don't remember the details because it all happened really fast, but he said that I was going to assume a cover in Stuckeyville with you guys so that I'd be safe, just in case, and I wouldn't be alone."  
  
"Do you remember anything about what happened?"   
  
"No, I'm sorry. All I know is that Jack said that I should tell you guys that it's nothing to really be worried about and that he knew after everything Sydney has been through, it would probably ease her mind to have either me or Francie safe with her too. And that she wanted that before she left. But, like I said, it was too difficult to deal with Francie, so he brought me and I told Francie that I was going to spend some time with family on the east coast because my Grandmother is sick."   
  
"Okay," I say, breathing a sigh of relief, "so you're on your way here?"   
  
"Yeah, they're saying it'll be about fifteen more minutes."   
  
"So, you're going to need a ride, won't you?" I ask, looking at my watch.   
  
"Yeah, I'm sorry to be such a pain."   
  
"Don't be sorry. You gotta do what you gotta do. Syd'll be really happy." I say, smiling at Syd.   
  
"Let me talk!" She exclaims, reaching for my phone. I swat her hand as I try to listen to what Will is telling me.   
  
"Tell her that I'd talk to her, but I have to get stuff done before I get there. So I'll see her in a little while and everything's fine and there's nothing she has to worry about. Thanks and see ya."   
  
"Bye, Will." I reply, pressing the 'End' button on my phone.   
  
"Why didn't you give the phone to me?!" She asks, pushing me violently. I actually lose my balance...Well that's not too uncommon when it comes to Syd.   
  
"He said he couldn't talk to you!" I exclaim in response.   
  
"Well, what's going on then?!"   
  
"He's on his way here. Your Dad met with him and said that you told him that you wanted Francie or him to come to Stuckeyville with you before you left, and he could make sure Francie was kept safe in LA without having to _tell_ her, so he made arrangements for Will to come here." I explain.   
  
"Will's coming?" She asks excitedly. Does she not see me standing in front of her.   
  
"Yup." I say nonchalantly, putting my phone back in my pocket. "I have to go pick him up now actually."   
  
"Can I come?" She asks like a kid. Seriously, what's so great about Will anyway? He's just a tall, blonde haired, blue eyed reporter. What's so attractive about that?   
  
"Who's Will?" Carol asked, stepping forward. We both turned toward her, and I definitely see a giddy grin spreading across her face again.   
  
"I'll actually stay," she says, grinning.   
  
The smile must have faded from my face and an expression of complete and utter burning jealousy and anger has replaced it.   
  
"Aww, don't be jealous." She says, running a hand over my cheek. "You know you're the man that I love, right?" She leans in and kisses me and that goofy grin spreads across my face. Dammit, I hate the goofy grin!   
  
"I better be." I say stubbornly as I pull the keys out of my pocket and walk towards the door. "I'll be back in a little while, guys. Syd'll fill you guys in."   
  
Maybe this will turn out better than I'm anticipating. Will's a cool guy. He really is.   
  
I just have to keep repeating that to myself and I'll be fine.   
  
~~~  
  
[Syd's POV]  
  
"So wait, who's this Will guy?" Carol asks me again as I walk back towards the gang and we all sit down.   
  
"He's a friend of mine from LA," I start. I don't know why I was so excited about having Will here...I guess a part of me just wanted him to live this life for awhile, too. Where everything seems so incredibly perfect and you don't have to worry about anything. It's the least I could do for him after practically ruining his life.   
  
"How has he been?" Ed asks suddenly. "After what happened."   
  
"Wha--" How the Hell does he know what happened?  
  
"Mike told me about it. About Taipei..." Ed cuts me off.   
  
"Oh!" All the girls seem to make the connection at once. "_That_ Will." I smile.   
  
"Yeah, _that_ Will."   
  
"What Will?" Mike asks, confused.   
  
"I'll explain it all to you later, honey," Nancy says, patting her husband's shoulder.   
  
"He's been good," I say, responding to Ed's earlier question. "It's been a little bit tough, but he's getting along. Michael actually got him a job back in LA and he was finally starting to move on."   
  
"Well, atleast he's been able to move on," Ed replies, smiling.   
  
"So how did you and Will meet?" Molly asks, taking a sip of her soda.   
  
"We actually met during graduate school..."   
  
~~~  
  
[Vaughn's POV]   
  
As I pull up to the hanger, I see Will walk out. You would think that someone as "smart" as Will would think to bring a jacket when he comes to Ohio in the middle of February. I mean, seriously, who just wears a T-shirt? Yeah, it may be seventy degrees in Southern California, but Ohio in February is bitterly cold. Bitterly.   
  
I have absolutely no clue why I have all this animousity towards Will. I like him, I really do. But a part of me will always be jealous of all the time he was able to spend with Sydney just doing things that normal friends do. Living a normal life and just hanging out with her.   
  
But that's stupid. I'm a fulll grown adult and there's no need for me to feel like this. As hard as it is to believe, me and Will have actually become kind of close in the past few weeks. Maybe we'll actually have a thing or two in common and become friends; who knows.  
  
I step out of the car, and walk towards him.   
  
"Hey, Vaughn. Thanks for picking me up." Will says, readjusting the bag over his shoulder.   
  
"No problem, you do have a jacket right?" I ask with a laugh.   
  
"Haha, yeah, I do. But I guess in all the excitement I forgot to put it on. It's in my bag actually."   
  
"Oh, let me take that for you," I say, reaching over and grabbing his duffel bag from him as I move towards the car.   
  
"Thanks, man." He says sighing. "Geez, this place is gorgeous."  
  
"I know, isn't it?" I ask as I put his bag in the back of the car. "A friend of mine from college actually lives here."   
  
"Oh really?" Will asks suprised as he opens the front door and sits down.   
  
"Yeah -- Ed Stevens. He used to be CIA for a little while, but decided to pursue a life of small town law instead." Even though he's laughing, I can tell he's a little tense. Do I intimidate him or something? Interesting.   
  
"That's so strange," he says, shaking his head. He takes the laptop case he has around his shoulder off and places it on the ground.   
  
"Hey, Jack checked that out before you came right?" I asked, suddenly concerned about bugs or other such things.   
  
"Yeah, don't worry about it. He checked...Everything. Which, I must admit, wasn't too fun for me. Despite all the things that man has done for me, he still scares the Hell out of me."   
  
Wow, so we do have something in common.   
  
"Trust me, I know how you feel." I say laughing.   
  
"So where's Syd?" He asks as I turn onto the main highway.   
  
"She's actually back at the Stuckeybowl with Ed and his friends." I reply.   
  
"Stuckeybowl? Is that like the town's thirtysomething hangout or something?" Will asks mockingly.   
  
"Actually, Ed owns the place."   
  
"He's a bowling alley lawyer?!" Will exclaims excitedly. "How cool is that?!"   
  
God, Ed will love Will, I just know it.   
  
"Yeah, you should be sure to tell Ed that. He'd get such a kick out of it."   
  
"I have a feeling I'll like it here." Will says, looking out the window over the town.   
  
"So did Jack already work out a cover for you, or will we have to figure something out?" I ask curiously.   
  
"Oh, don't worry about it, like I said, Jack dealt with everything. He said I'll be working at the Stuckeyville Sun newspaper. Right up my alley, I know. And pardon the pun."   
  
See, Will isn't so bad...He's actually pretty funny. And nice. And if Sydney likes him so much, I like him too.   
  
Yes.   
  
"That's just pathetic," I joke.   
  
"I know, I know," he says laughing.   
  
~~~  
  
_Fifteen Minutes Later_   
  
So, by the end of the car ride, I know a lot more about Will than I did before. And yeah, a lot of the stuff was on his profile that I've seen time and time again, but you really learn a lot more about a guy when he actually tells you about his life experiences. And I've decided it, I can learn to be chummy chummy with this guy. He has a pretty impressive resume.   
  
Went to college at Georgetown. Majored in English Lit. Did crew. That in itself is pretty impressive. There isn't anything much more gruelling than crew. Well, there are, but still. It's impressive. I always wanted to do crew, but there was no chance in Hell I'd get up that early every morning to row, row, row my boat gently down the stream.   
  
Wow, I'm such a loser. Thank God I think before I speak, that's all I have to say.   
  
So then he went to graduate school at USC. He wanted to be somewhere warm, he said. And understandably so. And that's where he met Syd.   
  
As we pull up into the Stuckeybowl, I see Will shake his head from the corner of my eyes.   
  
"What?" I ask, smiling. "It's just crazy, isn't it? Like it's out of a TV show or something."   
  
"Exactly. That's exactly what I was thinking. This place is surreal. No, this whole town is surreal."   
  
"You'll really like it here, I guarantee it." I say as I take the keys out of the ignition and open my door.   
  
"I have a feeling I will most definitely enjoy it." Will says as he steps out.   
  
"You must be freezing." I reply as we walk towards the steps.   
  
"You know, even after all my years in the Southern California sun, my body is still able to adjust to the cold. I guess it's the east coaster in me."   
  
"That's crazy," I say as I hold the door open for him.   
  
Just as we step through the door, and Will stares around in wonder, I see Sydney run towards us.   
  
"Will!" She exclaims excitedly, running into his arms.   
  
"Hey, Syd! Long time no see, huh?" He replies smiling wildly. "How crazy is this place?" He asks as she pulls away.   
  
"I know! It's great isn't it?" She asks excitedly. Okay, I don't know if I'll be able to take this. Call me selfish, but hey, I'd like some attention and fussing over too. Maybe a good clearing of the throat will do.   
  
Okay, this is the longest clearing of the throat ever.   
  
"Come on, Will! Let me introduce you to everyone!" She says, pulling Will's arm.   
  
I shake my head and lag behind. I know Sydney, this high will wear off eventually. Will looks back towards me and I think he's a little frightened. He hasn't seen Sydney this happy for a long time, I know. I shake my head and lower my voice.   
  
"Just to warn you, she's like a completely different person here." I say to him, then turn to look at Syd with a warm smile on my face. He starts to say something, but suddenly stops as he watches me. I think he just put two and two together...  
  
"Will, this is Carol, Nancy, Molly, Ed, and Mike. Guys, this is Will!" She says happily. I walk around the two and sit up on the countertop. A great position to watch all the women swoon over Will. Swoon doesn't even encompass what they're doing right now. They are litterally panting, drooling and growling after him, I swear. It's the sickest display of female hormones I've ever witnessed in my life.   
  
"Hi Will," Carol says, stepping forward. "We've heard so much about you," she says flirtatiously as she reaches her hand out to Will.   
  
"Only good things, I hope." He replies shyly. He better not hit on Carol because I swear, if he destroys my plan to set Ed and Carol up, I will personally send him to some random city with no money, food or clothing. And I'm not kidding.   
  
"Of course," Carol says smiling as she shakes her head. Oh God, I have a feeling Will's not the one I'm going to have to worry about...  
  
**END CHAPTER TWELVE**   



	13. This Can Be Our Secret, We Can Keep It G...

****

Chapter Thirteen - This Can Be Our Secret, We Can Keep It Good  
  
_Visiting is pretty  
Visiting is good  
Seems that all they ever wanted was a brother  
This can be a secret  
We can keep it good  
Even all the ever wanting had a problem  
This is a call to all my  
Past resignations  
This is a call to all  
  
"This is a Call," Foo Fighters_  
  
[Syd's POV]   
  
_Saturday Evening_   
  
It's Saturday night and I'm sitting in a bowling alley watching twenty five Elvis impersonators trying to win Priscilla's hand in marriage. And by Priscilla, I mean Shirley.   
  
Yeah, I definitely never thought I'd ever be in this situation. Ever.   
  
"Is this what they call fun, here in Stuckeyville?" Will whispers, leaning toward me. I can't hide my laughter as I turn towards him.   
  
"As much as I hate to say it...Yes."   
  
"Hey! We heard that!" Carol exclaims nudging Will's shoulder away from mine. "This isn't how we usually spend our Saturday nights, just so you know. We just thought this could very possibly rank in our 'strangest nights ever' list. You gotta admit watching these guys fight over Shirley is hysterical."   
  
"I guess so, but an hour straight of twenty five semi-bald, middle aged, Elvis impersonators' renditions of 'Love Me Tender', 'I Can't Help Falling in Love', 'Unchained Melody', and 'Teddy Bear' get really old really fast."   
  
"Trust me, I feel your pain, Will. Just be thankful you don't have to deal with this every weekend." Ed adds, shaking his head sadly.   
  
I'm about to speak up when I sense Michael coming back. Will turns his head towards him and gives him a nod. Michael smiles, then makes his way over to me.  
  
"Hey," I say, standing up as I place my hands on his chest and give him a brief kiss.   
  
Yeah, this'll never get old. I can't help but love the extra attention he's been giving to me for the past day or so. Hey, I may be an independent, strong woman who doesn't need any man's appreciation to live a happy and successful life, but when it's Michael Vaughn...I don't even need to go on. Let's just say, these past few days have made up for the year or so that I had to spend lusting after him and not being able to act on it.   
  
I think he's been extra possessive because of Will. I have absolutely no idea why, but something's definitely up. I've never seen Michael as the possessive type, but seeing that he dueled a teenager for my affections, maybe I've just had him wrong this whole time.   
  
There's no reason to be jealous of Will. I mean, he's _Will_. And Michael is _Michael_. There's no contest whatsoever.   
  
"Boo! Get a room!" I smile against his lips as I hear Ed's mocking voice and feel popcorn hit our faces. We pull apart and all I see is Michael's sparkling green eyes.   
  
"We would, but some of us aren't as lucky as Mr. Tippin over here," Michael says grinning at Ed then turning to Will. I still wonder why the CIA decided not to give Will a new name and identity, but I guess they know what's best.   
  
Good lord. What has happened to me?!  
  
But yeah, how Will got his own place, I don't know. And yes, he does look a bit uncomfortable when me and Michael have our moments of PDA, but I have a feeling it's more of a getting used to a new situation thing, rather than burning jealousy thing. Will isn't that kind of guy. He's my best friend, he'd never be jealous.   
  
"Yeah, I know. Jack really hooked me up down here." Will jokes.   
  
"Hooked you up?" Michael asks, shaking his head. "Okay, Will, _never_ say that again."   
  
"Hey, what's so wrong with getting hooked up in the hizzouse?" Mike asks, straight faced.   
  
All of us suddenly burst out into hysterical laughter.   
  
"What?" Mike asks, in mock confusion. Nancy places her hand over her eyes and just shakes her head sadly.   
  
"Mike, remember how I told you to think before you say?" She asks.   
  
"Hey! Quiet down over there. We've got a competition going on in case you fools didn't realize it." Phil calls out.   
  
"Speaking of which, Phil, it's time for you to wrap this show up," Ed replies, standing up and stretching his arms.   
  
"What do you mean, 'wrap this show up'?" Phil asks, hurt. "No one ever told Shakespeare to 'wrap' _Macbeth_ 'up.' No one told Bach to 'wrap' his music-playing 'up.' No one told that Britannica dude to 'wrap' his encyclopedia 'up'--"  
  
"Okay, I get the point, Phil. All I'm saying is that it's getting to be ten fifteen and there's nobody here but us. Clearly, it's been a slow night so why don't you just wrap this up and we'll all head out of here so we can show Will here what Stuckeyville night life is really about."   
  
"Stuckeyville nightlife? We have a nightlife?" Molly asks.   
  
"Ha ha, real funny." Ed says, sitting back down.   
  
"So wait, let me get this straight. You and Vaughn here went to college together?" Will asks, changing the subject.   
  
Now I love Will, but sometimes he's so incredibly clueless. Time to shoot him the death stare of his lifetime.   
  
"Michael Saunders," Michael says quietly as he leans toward him.   
  
"Oh, sorry, man," Will apologizes immediately.   
  
"It's no problem, but just make sure it doesn't happen again when we're out in public."   
  
"Yeah, yeah, sorry." Will says regretfully.   
  
"Me and Ed did go to college together though. Columbia, actually." Michael continues. Sigh. You gotta love it when your boyfriend wants to be nice to your best guy friend, and actually become chummy chummy despite his suspicion. Michael is like the best boyfriend any girl could ever like, have. Now if only I had the gum, pink t-shirt and high ponytail...I could rock the valley girl like no other.   
  
My name is, like, Sydney, and my favorite things are like boys, Duran Duran, and boys that like Duran Duran.   
  
"I had no clue you went to Columbia!" Will exclaims. "My sister went there! It's a beautiful campus."   
  
"I thought Amy was down at USC?" I ask, getting back into the conversation.  
  
"Well, yeah, she is now, but she went to Columbia for undergrad."   
  
"Oh yeah," I respond, as it all comes back to me. "Amy's so cool, Michael, you'd love her." I say, looping my arm through Michael's. He just laughs.   
  
"I'll have to meet her one of these days," he says, looking down at me, then back at Will.   
  
"Definitely." Will responds.   
  
"What about you, Will? Where did you go for college?" Ed asks, curiously.   
  
"I actually went to Georgetown. Yeah, I was a hardcore English Lit major." He replies, scratching his head. Wow, college. It seems like a lifetime since college -- since my life wasn't the giant pile of sh-t it was before I came here.   
  
"So did you know you wanted to become a journalist slash reporter from the beginning or did you have other things in mind first?" Carol asks, incredibly interested.   
  
Whoa there. Carol's not allowed to show interest in Will. I will not let Carol show interest in Will! Carol has the hots for Ed and that's final! Me and Mikey-Bear really need to formulate some plan to get those two lovebirds together.   
  
Yes, I did just say "Mikey-Bear." I'm allowed to call my boyfriend whatever the Hell I want to. It's my mind, isn't it?  
  
Okay, fine, "Mikey-Bear" is out.   
  
"Actually, that's a crazy story...I always wanted to become an actor. Not like a TV or movie actor -- I wanted to become one of those off Broadway, Shakespeare in the Park, 'acting is my life's work' kind of actor. But I fugred the best way to ease myself into it, was to really get behind what I saw as an actor's inspiration: literature. Before I knew it, my hopes of becoming an actor were gone and I was ready to hit the 'writing' road. I thought journalism would help inspire me, let me really develop my skills before getting into it. And I figured, if Hemingway started as a journalist, it couldn't be that bad. And then I fell in love with writing, and I guess that's what really stuck."   
  
"Wow, how deep," Michael said, sitting back. "You are quite an impressive intellectual, my friend."   
  
"Why thank you. Let me just say, that's the first time anyone has ever said that to me in my life."   
  
Awww, they're bonding! THEY'RE BONDING!  
  
"That's incredible," Carol says, googly eyed. This girl isn't allowed to fall for Will. Damn his intellect and blue eyes! I bet if he actually bothered to make his hair, shave, and wore smelly clothes, none of this would have happened. We need a plan ASAP. "That's how I wish my life turned out."   
  
"What do you mean?" Will asks.   
  
"Yeah, what do you mean?" Ed repeats, suddenly serious.   
  
Carol quickly wipes the look of disappointment off her face and plasters a smile back on. "Oh nothing. I love teaching, I'd never give it up for the world."   
  
Now that's sketchy. Ed clearly has some insight into what that little microscopic breakdown was about. This is a step. Him showing interest is excellent, now we just need her to stop oogling over Will and have some sort of conflict with Ed that needs a resolution. Fast.  
  
There's tension. I feel it for sure. Tension is perfect.   
  
"Oh man, I would never be able to teach. Just ask--" Will is suddenly cut off by the shriek of the microphone.   
  
"Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a winner! Elvis number twenty two, come on up and claim your prize!" Phil exclaims from his makeshift stage. We all sit in utter confusion as "Elvis number twenty two" walks onto the stage and lets Shirley take his hand. "And we wish the new couple all the best! Remeber to tune in next week when we'll show how the couple has gotten along and check on the status of their relationship. 'Til then, goodnight from all of us here at 'Which Elvis Will Priscilla Pick?'"  
  
My face drops and I turn to Ed.   
  
"You couldn't even help him come up with a better title? You let all of this go on and the least you could do is come up with a good title. This is a sad, sad night in the history of the Stuckeybowl." I say sadly.   
  
"Hey! You've only been here for a week or so. You haven't seen 'Jackass Night' and Eli and Phil's Birthday Song Competition." Molly adds in.   
  
"Okay, I'm not even going to go there." I respond. All the Elvises file out of the Stuckeybowl and we all stand as Eli turns the camera off and Shirley slaps "Elvis twenty two" and sends him on his way.  
  
"I suppose this is all a part of that new reality TV show you wanted me to star in?" Michael asks as Phil makes his way towards us.   
  
"It's your loss, Michaelangelo. You could have had fame, fortune, and probably an E! True Hollywood Story under your belt, but you turned it all down."   
  
"I'm pretty sure I'm cool with not being an Elvis impersonator."   
  
Michael as Elvis? Good Lord. That would be beyond hot. And I'm not talking about Old Elvis, hopped up on his sleeping pills and running around in rhinestone studded jumpsuits. I mean lean, fit, sexy Young Elvis who had all the girls swooning.   
  
Wow, I'm so hormonal.   
  
"That's where you're wrong. This, my friend, is but a test. I guess you could say it's an audition. We're going to send this puppy to NBC and they will be shocked by our utter brillancee and come begging me for more. And _that_ is where you would come in. It's called baby steps." Phil says, taking the tape from Eli.   
  
"Baby steps, Phil?" Ed asks.   
  
"You gotta learn to crawl before you can walk, Bosco."   
  
"Eli, how could you agree to do this?" Ed asks, exasperatedly.   
  
"I don't know how I got sucked into it, man. All I know is that if it works, I'll have a posse of my own and bling bling up the shizzle."   
  
"See, that's how it's supposed to sound, honey." Nancy says, pointing to Eli.   
  
"What did you say?" Eli snaps, defensively.   
  
"Oh, nothing, Eli," Nancy responds sweetly, "Mike was just trying to get the ghetto speak down earlier, and it was horrible, so I was just saying..."   
  
"I'm just playin'," Eli jokes, laughing.  
  
Suddenly, Warren, Mark and Diane come through the doors. Just when I thought it couldn't get any crazier...   
  
"Was it just me or did twenty five Elvis impersonators just come out of here?" Mark asks, looking behind him as he walks toward us.   
  
These are the coolest teenagers on the face of this planet. If I had friends like them, I would have had the best high school experience in recorded history.   
  
I exaggerate, I know.   
  
"H-hi, Ms. Hanton," Warren says, nervously.   
  
"Hey, Warren," I say nicely. Warren is the cutest.   
  
"Mr. Saunders, I just want to say, once again, that it was a battle well fought and that I have nothing but respect for you, in my book." He walks toward Michael and reaches his hand out to be shaked. Michael laughs and shakes his hand in return.   
  
"Battle?" Will asks. Will is so out of the loop. Geez, get with the times, man.   
  
"And who is _this_?" Warren asks suspiciously moving towards Will.   
  
"This is my friend, Will. Will, this is one of my students, Warren Cheswick." I say, introducing the two of them to each other. "And these two are Diane and Mark...Two more of my students."   
  
"Hey, guys," Will says, shaking their hands individually.   
  
Diane tries so hard to hide her inner-hormonal teenager, but there's no doubt about it: her and Michael and Will in the same room has put a blinding smile on her face. I know I've only been here for a week, but I've never seen her as happy as she is right now, and, quite frankly, I'm kinda scared.   
  
"So what's this battle you guys are talking about?" Will asks once again.   
  
"Oh, it was nothing. Warren and Michael here just dueled for Sydney's affections yesterday." Molly says, nonchalantly.   
  
"It's a long story, I'll fill you in later," Michael says, shaking his head. I know he loved it. He may come off as a sweet, humble guy, but deep down inside, he's just as egocentric as the rest of them.   
  
"Yo, Ed. We're gonna be heading out. We'll see ya tomorrow." Eli calls out as he, Phil and Shirley walk out of the Stuckeybowl.   
  
"Thanks for letting me know, Eli," Ed calls out in response.   
  
Right as the door closes, Diane speaks up.   
  
"So, are you from LA, too?" Is that girl batting her eyelashes? What is this?! It's like she hasn't seen full grown men before!   
  
And yes, I'm allowed to be possessive over my best friend and my boyfriend. That's just a part of the Bristow game.   
  
"Yup," Will responds, sitting back down.   
  
"Wait, so all of you guys just happened to move to Stuckeyville at the same time? Strange." Warren says, sitting next to Will. Will turns to me, unsure what to say.  
  
"It's a long story," I say, moving back towards Michael.  
  
"Yeah, and it's late guys. You should probably head out because I think I'm gonna lock up." Ed replies, stepping forward. Way to go, Ed. Taking charge of the situation.   
  
"But we just got here and we don't feel like going back to our boring homes and watching lame Saturday night movies." Mark complains.   
  
"Sorry, guys, but--" Ed is suddenly cut off by Michael.   
  
"Hey, Ed, are you expecting any deliveries right now?" He asks suspiciously as he peers through the door.   
  
"No, why?" Ed asks, suddenly concerned.   
  
"Because I think we've got some company," Michael says, walking hurriedly back towards us. "Sark's here."   
  
Holy f-cking sh-t. What do you mean 'Sark's here'? That's not humanly possible. Sark is not allowed in this world. He's not allowed, dammit!  
  
"What?!" I exclaim, in shock.   
  
"You've gotta be kidding me. What is that son of a bitch doing here?" Will asks, angrily.   
  
"I don't know." Michael says, turning to me. "Syd, you have to stay out of sight, we don't want them to know you're here. Keep everyone out of danger. Ed? You're coming with me." Michael says, walking back towards the shoe rental island.   
  
"Who's Sark?" Carol asks nervously.   
  
"What's happening?" Diane asks, also scared.   
  
"Why can't this guy know you're here, Ms. Hanton?" Oh God, my cover is gone. How am I going to make sure these kids don't blow it? That's beside the point, I have to keep them back.   
  
"I'll explain everything to you guys later, right now, you just have to stay on this side of the alley." I say as the door suddenly opens.   
  
"I'm sorry, but we were about to close up," Michael says walking towards the two large men who entered the door. Definitely two of Sark's men. I could recognize them anywhere. But what the Hell am I doing here? I should be out there kicking some ass.   
  
"I don't think so," one man responds. Just as he reaches in his jacket, the other one makes a swing at Michael's head, but he ducks just in time. Ed goes after the unarmed one, and Michael elbows his guy in the chest before bracing himself for a fight.   
  
Ed's got mad skillz. Seriously.   
  
He's kicking ass like very few agents I have ever seen. It's sad that the CIA had to lose such a valuble asset.   
  
They are fighting hand to hand, or fist to fist rather, because neither of the big guys are able to get ahold of their guns. Sh-t. I spoke too soon. What the Hell is Michael doing?! He's on the guys shoulders. Okay, maybe not exactly, but he has the guy in a headlock, but he's dangling off of his back. The guy has a gun and he's dangling off of his back. Is _this_ what they taught him in CST?! Apparently, Ed has taken his guy down, and now he's giving Michael some assistance. Ed kicks the guy in the gut, prompting Michael to jump down and reach for something by his ankle. His Base Ops name isn't Boyscout for nothing. This man is always prepared. He reaches for his gun and hits the big guy with the butt of his gun briskly and roughly. Oh God, there are more--  
  
Before I know it, I've raced out and I'm kicking ass beside Michael and Ed. All I know is that there are a lot of flying limbs and it's not pretty. Michael won't shoot his gun because it's too dangerous...There are too many people and he doesn't want to draw attention to us and the Stuckeybowl, I know it.   
  
I don't know how long it is before we take all the guys out, but we do. I hear Will walk up towards me, but before I can tell him to go back, the door opens again.   
  
"Well, well. I came looking for Mr. Tippin, but it seems as though I have found a diamond in the rough." Son of a British Bitch.   
  
"Freeze!" Michael demands, pointing his gun at Sark.   
  
"As you wish, Mr. Vaughn. I'm always willing to comply." Sark slowly raises his arms in the air, and begins to walk towards us.   
  
"I said don't move." Michael repeats.   
  
"If I recall correctly, Mr. Vaughn, you said 'freeze.' You Americans really do have quite a fascination with old and hackneyed phrases, do you not?"   
  
"What the Hell do you want?" I ask, walking towards him.   
  
"Sydney, don't." I hear Michael say as I continue to walk.   
  
"Well, Ms. Bristow, you're disappearance has really sent the world of espionage into a mess. We don't know what to do without you." Sark says sarcastically.   
  
"I'm sure," I respond harshly. "What the Hell do you want? Tell me now or we will kill you with absolutely no hesitation. And I'm fairly certain you're presence won't be missed."   
  
"By 'we' do you mean your boyfriend? Or is he still your 'handler'? I guess agent-handler protocol bears no importance in this Stuckey-land you two have taken shelter in."   
  
I walk within inches of Sark and begin to check for arms. I pat him down and pull out two guns from his jacket and pants. I take one and toss the other to Ed.   
  
"Oh, please continue, Ms. Bristow. I rather enjoyed it." Sark sneers. I would spit in his face, but I think it'll put a bad impression on the Stuckeyville gang. Yeah, I'm going to protect them, and yeah my cover has been blown with the kids, but I still have my self respect I need to maintain.   
  
"Who sent you here?" I say.   
  
Silence.   
  
"Who sent you here?" I scream into his face.   
  
He flinches slightly, then a smile grows.   
  
"If you're asking whether SD-6 or Arvin Sloane knows where you are, they don't. I cut all ties shortly after you and you're little CIA friends failed in overtaking SD-6. I really would have thought that the CIA would have been a little more careful with such an important mission. But I guess even the best screw up once in awhile, don't they?"   
  
That's it.   
  
I don't know how my fist ends up in his face, I really don't.   
  
"Yeah, sometimes." I respond. "Now, who knows we're here. Tell me know or you're really going to regret it."   
  
"No one." He says seriously. "Like I said, I'm on my own now. I don't work for anyone. I was curious as to what happened to you and you're little boy toy over there, and I figured I might as well look you up. But the CIA did a good job at covering your tracks. So I turned to your friend over there. He didn't know it but I had been tailing him since the day after you two left. That's why your father sent him here. I'm suprised you didn't put two and two together sooner. You're mother would be disappointed."   
  
Whoa, there really must be something wrong with my fist, because it somehow found his face again.   
  
He puts his hands down and touches his face. There is a fairly steady stream of blood coming from his nose, and I can't help but smile.   
  
"Yeah, she probably would be," I retort, grinning.  
  
"You little bitch..." He says, inspecting his hand, sticky with blood.   
  
Suddenly I see the butt of Michael's gun hit Sark in the jaw, and he falls to the ground, limp.   
  
"Nobody calls her a bitch." He says, kicking his lifeless body in the ribs. "Nobody."   
  
I take a deep breath and slowly open my eyes. I turn to Michael, then to Ed.   
  
"What do we do?" I ask, tiredly.   
  
"I'll tie these guys up. They won't be up for a few hours, atleast." Ed says, moving towards the the big guys, checking their pockets, then Sark's.   
  
I turn back to Michael, who is already on his cell, with Weiss apparently.   
  
"Yeah, Weiss? Our cover's blown. Sark found us and he knows Syd's CIA. He said he was alone, but we don't know if he was lying or not. Check it out and make sure Devlin makes a call to Langley now so that we can get these guys out of Stuckeyville before sunrise. There's no way we can get someone from LA here in time."   
  
Oh God, this is all happening so fast.   
  
Will looks frightened, but is still in control. He's seen worse, and he knows everything will be alright. But Carol, Molly, Nancy, Mike, Warren, Diane, and Mark? I'm not so sure.   
  
"Um...Warren, Diane, Mark...I have something to tell you guys." I say slowly, as I walk back towards seven individuals who look like they have just looked death in the eyes. All they need is their hair to be on end. That would be funny. Or not. Because this isn't a funny situation at all. Oh God.   
  
"Hell yes, you have something to tell us!" Warren exclaims, shaking his head. "CIA?! SD-6?! Langley?! Sark?! Vaughn?! _Bristow_?!"  
  
"Who _are_ you guys?" Diane asks wearily.   
  
I look back at Michael as he puts his cell away and walks towards me.   
  
"I know this will be hard to believe, but...We work for the CIA..."   
  
Here we go again.   
  
**END CHAPTER THIRTEEN**


	14. The Revelation is Now

****

Chapter Fourteen - The Revelation is Now  
  
_You wont find me I'm going MIA  
Tonight I'm leaving going MIA  
Getting lost in you again is better than being numb  
Counting every minute 'til the feeling comes crashing down  
Run when it hit's the ground  
I'm good at escaping  
But better at flaking out  
  
"MIA," Foo Fighters_  
  
[Vaughn's POV]  
  
This didn't just happen. This _did not_ just happen.   
  
It's all Will's fault. Who am I kidding? It's _always_ Will's fault.   
  
Me almost drowning in Taipei? Will's fault. Syd getting shot by her mother? Will's fault. Me getting a deadly virus? Will's fault.   
  
Poverty? Will's fault. World hunger? Will's fault. Death? Will's fault.   
  
Okay, it's unfair of me to blame Will for all of the world's troubles, and for this little predicament, for that matter. Can't let emotions cloud my judgement, gotta play it cool.   
  
"CIA as in _the_ Central Intelligence Agency?!" Mark asks incredulously.   
  
No, the _other_ CIA.   
  
"Guys, I know this comes as a shock to you--" Syd starts, but is cut off abruptly by Warren.   
  
"Whoa, whoa, wait a second. Let me get this straight. You both work for the CIA and are these like secret super kung fu ninja wizard people going undercover as our substitute teachers?!"  
  
Yes. Michael Vaughn: Secret Super Kung Fu Ninja Wizard.   
  
How kick ass would that be?! I think that title is more fitting for Syd. I'd simply be a Secret Kung Fu Ninja Wizard.   
  
"Well, I guess you could say that--" Why won't Warren let the woman get a single sentence out?!  
  
"Then that's so unfair! I never would have challenged Mr. Saunders, or Vaughn or whatever, to a duel if I knew he had such prowess in the ass kicking arena! He's a pro and I'm an amateur! I demand a rematch! But come to think of it, I probably can't beat you at anything because you're like the ultimate man. You have the looks, the brains, the _fists of fire_ -- By the way, do you think you can teach me a move or two sometime?"   
  
Good God, he's flailing his arms around like he's boxing someone. This could very well be the saddest sight I have ever laid eyes on. And now he's staring at me and Syd as if we're superheroes or something. I gotta admit it's pretty cool to be idolized.   
  
What am I saying? We have four 200+ pound men, in addition to a deadly little blonde Brit, lying unconcious in the foyer. I think there are more important things to be doing than pondering the coolness of having leigons of fans, headed, of course, by Warren Cheswick.   
  
"Shut up, Cheswick," Mark says half-mindedly. "So you two are CIA agents and you will obviously have to go into greater detail as to what the Hell is going on, who the Hell you really are, and why the Hell you're here, but first things first: ED?! Since when could _you_ of all people kick ass with the best of them?!  
  
In the words of the immortal Charlie Brown: Good grief.   
  
Lucy, we _certainly_ gots a lot of 'splainin to do.   
  
But after we take care of these bastards...  
  
"I second the part about Ed," Mike pipes in.   
  
"I third," Carol says, raising her hand.   
  
"Fourth," Molly follows.   
  
"Fifth," Nancy replies, shaking her head. "Five words: What the Hell just happened?"   
  
"We know this is going to seem really insane and difficult to comprehend, and I promise you that we'll explain everything in detail, but we just need to take care of this first." I say, motioning to the heap of men on the floor. Someone had to take charge, and I guess that someone is me.   
  
"Yeah," Sydney says under her breath as she walk toward me. "We should probably take care of them first, shouldn't we?"  
  
I nod my head and lean down to clip my gun back into it's holster at the base of my leg.   
  
"Is it just me, or is that just about the coolest thing _ever_?" Warren asks excitedly, pointing to my leg. Oh God, Warren. What are we going to do with this kid? I think I might take him back with me to LA just because it would be fun to say I had a stalker that idolizes me. But now's not the time to be thinking happy thoughts, we've got some deep sh-t to get ourselves out of...I shoot Warren a glare as I stand up. "Okay, I guess it is just me, then."   
  
Ed tosses me his gun and I secure it in my pants, behind my back.   
  
"What did Weiss say?" Syd asks as we walk towards the men.   
  
"Who's Weiss?" Diane asks. She sounds so lost and confused, poor kid. God knows I didn't expect things to turn out this way. And God knows there's no way me and Sydney are leaving Stuckeyville. This place is heaven on Earth and if Sark's telling the truth, our covers really haven't been comprimised and we essentially baited the enemy. But that's one damn big 'if.'  
  
"Another agent back in LA," Carol responds.   
  
"_You_ knew about this?!" Diane asks, hurt as she turns to Carol. Carol just shakes her head and rubs her eyes with her hand.   
  
"Yes."   
  
I turn my head back up towards Syd to answer her question. "He said that there will be a team out here in an hour or less to pick up these guys and transport them to Langley. All we have to do is keep them secure until then."   
  
"I'm sorry, guys," Will says sadly.   
  
"Will, it's not your fault." Me and Syd say simultaneously. Of course she's not the thinking what I'm thinking: You best be apologizin', Tippin.   
  
"Yes, it is," Will says sitting down, his head in his hands.   
  
"Will stop being stupid. You had nothing to do with Sark." Syd sighs exaseratedly. Carol sits down beside Will and places her arm around his shoulders. Normally, I'd be fuming, but my mind is a tad preoccupied.   
  
"The best I've got is Duct Tape," Ed says heading over towards his office.   
  
"That'll be perfect," I call out as Sydney approaches me and rests her forehead on my shoulder. I wrap my arm around her, but I must say, it's not enjoyable to do this in front of a captivated audeience. I feel like I'm in the high school production of Grease or something. "It'll be okay."   
  
"Will it really?" She asks, shooting her head up. "I don't want to leave, Michael. But I don't want to put these people in danger either. I just...don't want to go back." She says barely above a whisper.   
  
This is _not_ the Sydney I know...Acting all weak and helpless.   
  
"We're not leaving, Syd. If anything, this is the safest place we could possibly be." I kiss her forehead reassuringly as my phone goes off. I hear her mumble something along the lines of 'Yeah, right,' under her breath as Ed comes back with the tape.   
  
I answer the phone.   
  
"Hello?" I say as Ed and Sydney tie (or tape, rather) Sark up first.   
  
"Vaughn, good news. Sark wasn't lying, he did this alone and your covers haven't been blown. Devlin says that he wants you guys to stay where you are because he doesn't like the idea of you moving around a lot. He says it will draw more attention to you that's not necessary. Instead, security section will be keeping a extra close eye on Stuckeyville and you shouldn't really have a problem."   
  
"Thanks, man, you have no idea how much that means to us."   
  
"Yeah, I do. You're getting more action there than you were here and there's no way you were even considering coming back so soon."   
  
"You know me well, my man, you know me well. When they come to pick up these guys, I'll give you a call for confirmation."   
  
"Sounds good, I'll expect a call in about an hour."  
  
"Sure thing."   
  
"One last thing. I know it's been awhile for you, Mike, so I just wanted to tell you that post danger sex is the best sex around. Speaking of sex, like I said, it's been awhile for you so I should probably remind you that you put your--"  
  
"Weiss. That's enough out of you." What an ass. He clearly doesn't realize who he's talking to.  
  
"What did he say?" Syd asks as she tapes up the last guy. That when we have sex I'm actually supposed to put it--  
  
"Sark's telling the truth, he _was_ alone."   
  
"You really should learn to take people's word Mr. Vaughn. Suspicion isn't very becoming." Sark shouldn't have been up for hours. What is this?! It simply reaffirms my belief that he is the spawn of the devil, plain and simple. It's the only reasonable explanation.   
  
"You son of a f--king bitch," Will says angrily charging Sark. I stand up and push him back into his seat. Whoa there, tiger. Getting yourself in a little over your head, now aren't ya? He seems to forgotten that he is still Will Tippin and Sark is still Sark.   
  
"Mr. Tippin, Mr. Tippin, you'll never learn will you?" Sark asks with a grin. If there was one person that deserves to have vultures slowly peck at him so he suffers a long and painful death, it is most definitely Sark.   
  
"Let's get this straight, Sark," I say, walking towards him, "you don't speak. Got it?"   
  
"Of course, Agent Vaughn, for I am but your humble servant," Sark says sarcastically, still grinning. He is the epitome of ass. I pick up the duct tape and walk towards him. I've had enough of that British accent for one day.   
  
"Wait, I changed my mind," I say, tearing off a fairly long piece of duct tape. "You don't talk, unless we want you to talk." I finish as I tape his mouth shut. "Got it?"   
  
He glares at me and I can't help but smile. This is too much fun. I furrow my brow and move my head closer to him.   
  
"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that. Got it?" I repeat, tearing off the tape from his face.   
  
"Oh bloody Hell!" Sark exclaims painfully.   
  
"That's what I thought," I say, putting the tape back on his raw face. He lunges his head towards mine, and I move just in the knick of time, sending Sark flying into midair.   
  
Sydney walks up this time, and pulls the tape off once again.   
  
"F--" Sark starts, but restrains himself.   
  
"What did you want from me?" Syd asks, harshly.   
  
"I already told you, Ms. Bristow, I don't find the need to repeat myself."   
  
"Humor me."   
  
"Alright then, I was burning with desire to see your beautiful face and I just had to find you. Regardless of the consequences, I had to find you and I had to be with you. F--k protocol, as long as I can f--k you. Oh wait, sorry, I'm confusing myself with Agent Vaughn over there." Yeah. I think you know what the Hell I'm thinking. I charge him and am about to knock him out once again, but Sydney stops me.   
  
"I'm giving you one last chance. And that's it."   
  
"I'm not very fond of handouts."   
  
Bam. Way to go, Syd. She gave him a chance, he turned it down, he gets his ass kicked. Quite nice. Bravo.   
  
"Goddammit, why do you people have such an obsession with the face? Anywhere but the f--king face!" Anywhere but the face you say...  
  
"Why am I so important that you found the need to hunt me down? Huh, Sark?" Sydney asks, grabbing him by the lapels.   
  
"In all seriousness, I wanted to offer you a proposition, Ms. Bristow." Sark says, changing his tone. You've got to be kidding me...  
  
"You've got to be kidding me..." Me and Syd have a psycic connection, I know.   
  
"Just hear me out. We're destined to work together. You have no idea what we could acheive together, with our resources and our abilities, we co--" Thank God. Sydney elbowed him in the temple...That should definitely keep him out for longer than awhile. I don't know what that guy's smoking but it's clearly some freaky-ass sh-t.   
  
Sydney shakes her head and rolls her eyes as she walks back towards me and Ed.   
  
"He hunts us down to _recruit_ me?! I don't buy it, he's not that stupid." She says, still shaking her head in disbelief.   
  
"Desperate times call for desperate measures...?" Ed questions.   
  
"I don't know, I don't see it as too unlikely." I respond. "He very well could have been simply looking out for the well being of his blossoming agency by recruiting the best out there: you. He was left in the dust when Derevko turned herself in and now he has more power than he knows what to do with. Does that make any sense?"   
  
"No," Sydney says, sitting down. "But that's beside the point. We know we're safe and that everything is alright, so I guess we should probably explain a thing or two to these guys." She pulls four chairs up in front of the gang and we all sit down.   
  
"Before you start, who is this Sark guy?" Nancy asks, glaring back over at his hunched form.   
  
"I know he's a bad guy, but he's _really_ cute..." Molly says, craning her neck to catch a better glance. Ha! That's a good one. Apparently Syd thought it was a good one too because she's bursting out into laughter.   
  
"Sark?! Cute?! HAHAHA!" She exclaims, barely able to contain herself. "Sark is the devil incarnate. No, he's the devil incarnate's little henchman because he has no backbone and can only survive if he's taking orders by someone even more repulsive than he is."   
  
"Harsh," Mike says.   
  
"Well, it's deserved." I respond.   
  
"So wait, let me ask this again: who _is_ he?" Nancy asks.   
  
"All you need to know is that he's a bad guy. He used to have ties to an organization headed by Irina Derevko, so we know he's dangerous and willing to kill anyone in order to get what he wants." I say quickly.   
  
"Alrighty then..." Warren says, taking a deep breath. "And Irina Derevko?"  
  
I look down, and I can tell Ed and Will are both looking at Syd.   
  
"She's an ex-KGB officer who's currently in CIA custody." I say briefly. There's no need to elaborate and rehash old emotions.   
  
"Okay, so we don't know why he came here? Besides the fact that he's after you, Ms. Hanton -- uhh, Sydney?" Diane seems less shook up now. That's definitely good.   
  
"Yes, Diane," Sydney responds calmly, "and just keep calling me Ms. Hanton and Michael Mr. Saunders...Although our covers have been blown with you guys, the only way we can stay safe, and you guys can stay safe, is if no one else knows about this and just thinks we're exactly who we said we were."   
  
"Well who would think you _weren't_ who you said you were?" Mark asks, amused.   
  
Ha, the joys of childhood innocence. Or clueless civilian innocence.   
  
"Okay, so why did you guys come here? Are you investigating something in Stuckeyville? And how did you know Ed?" Diane speaks up once again.   
  
"And what's SD-6?" Warren asks.   
  
"That's where it gets a little complicated," Syd starts. "SD-6 is essentially a terror organization that deals in weapon sales and extortion posing as the CIA. I work as a double inside SD-6. That basically means that everyone inside SD-6 thinks I'm an SD-6 agent, but they don't know I'm actually a CIA agent working to bring them down."   
  
"Well, duh. We know what double agents are." Warren retorts. Sydney looks up at him, then over to Diane and Mark.   
  
"Michael is my CIA handler."   
  
"What's a handler?"   
  
"Well, Diane, I guess you could say he was sort of like my link of communication to the CIA. He gave me my missions and countermissions and he's basically the guy I would report back to."   
  
"So how does Stuckeyville and Ed fit into this whole picture if you guys are based in LA?" Mark asks. Ah, that's where it gets interesting, Mark.   
  
"What basically happened was that my cover was blown inside SD-6, in my last mission to bring down SD-6, and so was Michael's. The CIA felt as though they had the obligation to take precautionary measures and have us lay low, undercover, until they bring SD-6 down for good." Syd takes a deep breath and runs her hand through her hair.   
  
"Me and Ed have been friends since college," I say, picking up where Syd left off. "And I knew he lived here in Stuckeyville, and I knew what a quiet and unsuspecting town it is. So I pretty much set it up so that we'd move here and disappear for awhile."   
  
"Okay, so that explains why you guys are here, but what about Ed? How did you take those guys down?!" Warren asks, in a state of shock.   
  
"You guys don't know this, but before I came to Stuckeyville, I had originally planned to join the CIA. My father had been a well respected agent, and he wanted me to follow in his footsteps, but I didn't want to. I went through the training, but quit towards the end and decided to follow through with the law thing."   
  
"So you're a secret super kung fu ninja wizard too?!" Warren exclaims.  
  
"Yeah, that or I've also been trained by the CIA." Ed replies.   
  
"And Will? What about you? How'd you get sucked into all of this?" Diane asks, leaning back into her chair.   
  
"Well that's kind of a long story..." Will starts, "and I'd rather not get into it."   
  
Carol looks over at him sympathetically. She knows what Will's been through, Sydney told her. That still doesn't give her a reason to show any sympathy. Yes, I don't want her to have any feelings whatsoever in regards to Will, even if it's simply compassion.   
  
"Hold up," Warren says suddenly, "so you guys knew about this all along?"  
  
Molly, Carol, and Mike all nod slowly.   
  
"Well why didn't you tell us? Did you think we couldn't keep a secret or something?" Warren asks, laughing.  
  
Yeah, that sounds about right.   
  
~~~  
  
"We're normal people, just like you guys. There's no reason to treat us any differently now that you know the truth." Sydney says, holding my hand in both of hers.   
  
"Yeah, and if you do treat us differently, it will just raise more suspicion, so don't." I add, smiling. The mood has been lightened considerably since the agents came to take Sark and his men away. The kids had been suprisingly understanding, and even though Carol, Nancy and Mike seemed pretty shocked at first, they got over it. As did Will. It's like the last few hours never happened and that's how it should be.   
  
I know it has only been a couple hours and you'll probably think I'm crazy, but I think Carol and Will really are hitting it off. I know, I know, they've only known each other for what? Two days? Who am I to make any assumptions about their relationship when they hardly know each other? Then again, I have a right to feel the way I do about this. Within the last two hours, Carol isolated herself from Ed completely for a guy she's known for, like I said, less than two days. There's more to this that it seems.   
  
"Yeah, yeah, we get it, we get it." Warren says, putting his jacket on.   
  
"This is so cool!" Diane exclaims happily. "My teachers are field rated CIA agents!"   
  
Sydney laughs. That laugh...  
  
"But it doesn't leave this bowling alley." She replies warningly.   
  
"Obviously." Mark responds matter of factly. "See ya on Monday Mr. Saunders, Ms. Hanton."  
  
"See you guys Monday!" I call out.   
  
"You know what? I think we've had enough excitement for one night and it's getting late. We'll see you later." Nancy says, looping her arm through Mike's.   
  
"Yeah, I gotta get out of here too." Carol says, turning to us, then back to Will. I've got my eye on those two...  
  
"Same here." Molly says with a smile. She hugs Syd goodbye and touches my arm. "You guys have had a rough night, you should really take it easy."   
  
"Don't worry, Molls, you know we will." Syd says happily. First off: SWEET! Secondly, I never would have expected this night to turn out like this after that whole Sark fiasco. People are actually smiling and laughing and enjoying themselves rather than running around in a terrified frenzy.   
  
Carol probably thinks no one sees her slipping Will her number, but she's wrong. That girl is so clueless. Sometimes I think that she just doesn't deserve Ed. What's the use in working so hard to get a girl, or to set a girl up with a good friend, if she doesn't give a sh-t about him. Especially after a night like tonight where you'd expect her to be atleast a little bit understanding instead of alienating herself from him. What a fool.   
  
By the time I start paying attention to what's going on around me, the alley is empty except for Ed, Syd, and me.   
  
"Oh man," Ed says, picking up his jacket, "that was unexpected."   
  
"Yeah, that sums it up pretty well," I say, stretching my arms.   
  
"I'm suprised everyone was so cool with it," Syd says, grabbing both of our jackets.   
  
"Do you think our secret is safe with the kids?" I ask Ed.   
  
"Ah yeah. No doubt about it. I promise you won't have any trouble with those kids. They are like thirty year olds trapped in teenagers' bodies. Way more mature than their peer group."   
  
"That must be why I like them so much," Syd says with a grin as she wraps her fingers in mine.   
  
"What, the thirty year old mindset or the teenagers' bodies?" I joke. She laughs and pushes me playfully.   
  
"Alrighty, we've got all the lights off, stoves are off and everything's locked up...I guess we can blow this popsicle stand."   
  
Oh geez.   
  
"Ed--" I start.   
  
"No need, Mike, I know. Never say that again."   
  
"You got it, dude." I reply with a grin.   
  
"Ahh! Full House! Michael was a closet Full House fan!" Syd exclaims as we walk out of the Stuckeybowl.   
  
Oh geez to the tenth power.   
  
All I hear is Ed's hysterical laughter in the background. I so set myself up for this one. I take all the blame.   
  
"Okay, who _didn't_ think those little Olsen twins were damn cute as toddlers?!"  
  
I'll have a Hell of a time digging myself out of this one.   
  
~~~  
  
"We had quite a day, didn't we?" I ask, slipping into bed beside Syd.   
  
"Yeah, I guess you could say that," she replies, smiling as she turns around to face me. "Finding out you were a closet Full House fan...That was pretty shocking."   
  
"Shut up."   
  
"Okay fine, but only if you say one thing."   
  
"Okay, fine, what?"   
  
"Have _mercy_," she says in a deep voice inbetween laughs.   
  
"No way," I say, shaking my head. "Anything from DJ, Stephanie, Michelle...Sure I'd do it, but Uncle Jesse? I'm not worthy." I joke.   
  
"Okay, we've taken this joke way too far, it's starting to creep me out," she says, smiling. We sit in a comfortable silence for a moment...I can tell she's thinking about something. Probably the last few hours; it was all pretty traumatizing.   
  
"What are you thinking about?" I ask, brushing the hair out of her face.   
  
"I was just wondering what it's going to be like when we have to go back to the real world." She says somewhat sadly.   
  
"Don't worry, the real life will be even better than this, I promise." I kiss her nose, then kiss her chin.   
  
"Is that possible?" She asks, grinning.   
  
"Yeah, it is." I say, moving down to her neck. I feel her hands run through my hair and I wish that I had the ability to savor every feeling and every second that I'm experiencing right now. But we all know I don't have those kind of skills.   
  
"I don't know if I believe you..." She replies, running her hands under my shirt.   
  
"I know it'll be hard to top this town, but I can promise you that my place is nicer than this one." I say, moving to her lips.   
  
"I can't believe I've never seen your apartment..." She says, breathing heavily.   
  
"I know, I feel like we've been like this forever..."   
  
"Describe it to me," she says inbetween kisses.   
  
"Are you sure you'd rather me tell you about my apartment than--" My hand finds it's way to the base of her back and I feel her arch up agaist me as my lips meet her shoulders. She laughs and turns her neck away from me, giving me easy access to her special spot.   
  
"Hmm, this is a tough one," now she's twirling my hair inbetween her fingers. That reminds me, I need a haircut. Or maybe not...She seems to be enjoying it up there.   
  
She pushes me away suddenly, and I immediately put on the pouty face. The pouty face has never failed to date.   
  
"Aww, don't go all puppy dog on me..." She says, placing her hands on my face. I smile and move towards her again.   
  
"Okay, fine, but after? You're so going to give me a virtual tour of your place."   
  
I told you, it never fails.   
  
And you _know_ we're gonna rock the virtual tour all the way to the bedroom...  
  
I know, I have no shame. No self respect. No morals.   
  
But it's so worth it!  
  
**END CHAPTER FOURTEEN**


	15. Up in Arms

****

Chapter Fifteen - Up In Arms   
  
_The rain is here and you my dear are still my friend  
It's true the two of us are back as one again  
I was the one who left you  
Always coming back I cannot forget you, girl  
Now I am up in arms again.   
Together now, I don't know how this love could end  
My lonely heart, it falls apart for you to mend  
  
"Up In Arms," Foo Fighters_  
  
[Syd's POV]  
  
"Michael, we can't do this," I say, laughing giddily as he pulls me by the hand. The warm sand feels amazing under my bare feet -- it's been so long since I've been to the beach. I look over my shoulder nervously. Anyone could have followed us here...  
  
"Why can't we?" He asks, grinning while he spins me around into his arms.   
  
"What if someone sees us?" I ask, wrapping my arms around his neck.   
  
"Who cares?" He responds with a kiss as he brings me to the ground. I care! They could kill us if they see us together. They could kill you...  
  
I smile against his lips as he strokes my arm. My mind is screaming no while my body is screaming yes. Screw the consequences. If I don't live for today I'm going to regret it. I pull his face off mine and stare deeply into his eyes.   
  
"I love you," I say finally, "I love you so much."   
  
He laughs and places a hand on my face, caressing it lightly.   
  
"I love you, too."   
  
I open my eyes suddenly and am greeted by Michael's smiling face, but we're no longer on the sunny beaches of Southern California, and are instead back in Stuckeyville, in bed. I'm in bed with Michael Vaughn. God, that phrase will never get old.   
  
You know your life is twisted when your dreams resemble reality and reality resembles a dream. If that makes sense. Which it probably doesn't.   
  
"You talk in your sleep," he says playfully, his hand still resting on my face.   
  
"Oh, really?" I play along. "What did I say?"   
  
"I think it was along the lines of 'Don't stop Michael! Keep going, Michael! More! More!'" He exclaims, flailing about wildly. I laugh and push him back into reality.   
  
"Shut up," I joke, still grinning. I rub my forehead before resting my head back on top of my hand.   
  
"But really, what were you dreaming about?" He asks, seriously.   
  
"You. It's always you," I say, smiling.   
  
"Ooh, Sydney Bristow, the charmer." He responds, pulling me close. "She tells you exactly what you want to hear."   
  
How did I let myself get so lovestruck? I'm letting my life turn into a cheesy romantic comedy!   
  
Who am I kidding...I _love_ romantic comedies.   
  
Especially when they involve me, Michael, and a bed.   
  
Yes, my hormonal streak may have gone into hiding last night with all that commotion, but it's back in full force. Michael doesn't know what he's in for.   
  
We sit in a comfortable silence for a moment, and I find myself lost in his presence. But then again, what's new? Now that I know what it's like to be here with him -- like this -- I can't even imagine how I lived for so long without feeling his touch, his lips on mine, his hair...  
  
Even the man's hair is hot. You don't understand what an amazing feat that is. The length is perfect. The color is perfect. The texture is perfect. The way it sticks up in every direction is perfect. Any normal guy would balance out all the perfection his hair holds with imperfections of character, morals, standards, looks...But it's not like that with Michael.   
  
He really should be declared the eighth wonder of the world.   
  
Yup, Michael Vaughn, right up there beside the Pyramids of Egypt and the Hanging Gardens of Babylon.   
  
And I should really be declared a mentally insane. You know you have problems when you scare even yourself.   
  
"I made a decision." He says adamantly, bringing me out of my crazy-ass thoughts.   
  
"And what might that be?" I ask, amused.   
  
"We are going to spend the day together, just you and me, doing stuff that we'd never get the chance to do otherwise."   
  
"What do you have in mind?" My interest has officially been piqued. Things I never get the chance to do otherwise, huh? He sits up and leans his back on the headboard, running his hand through his hair briskly. I smile at his utter cuteness and follow suit.   
  
"That's for us to figure out." He responds.   
  
"What is this? Mr. I've Always Got A Plan doesn't have everything worked out in advance?" I tease, tickling him playfully. He grabs my hands with a grin.   
  
"I'm trying to be spontaneous here. Can you do spontaneous, Bristow?"   
  
"Oh, I can do spontaneous," I say, grinning devillishly, "I am the queen of spontenaity." I say seductively as I place my legs on either side of his thighs and pin him against the headboard with my arms.   
  
I'm going for the smoldering temptress look, but I think it's coming off as more of a giddy sex-driven teenager who must be on something because it's not humanly possible to be this excited first thing in the morning.   
  
"Really?" He asks, smiling as he places his hands on my waist. Those hands are deadly weapons, literally _and_ figuratively. How cheesy is that?! But it's so true...If you only knew what he could do with those hands...  
  
I nod my head slowly as I move my head within millimeters of his ear.   
  
"I--" I can't even get the first word out before I start breaking out into a fit of hysterics. Way to go, Syd. Why can't you be sexy for just one second, huh?!  
  
He's laughing too now, atleast that's what I think. I've basically turned into a lifeless pile of flesh on his lap, because when I laugh, I lose absolutely all control of my muscles.   
  
"Real smooth, Syd, real smooth," he says, patting me on the back. I raise my arms in the air to balance myself and regain composure, then take a deep breath.   
  
"Thank you," I say before breaking out into another fit of laughter.   
  
"What's up with you today?" Michael asks, amused yet slightly confused.   
  
"I have absolutely no clue," I say, shaking my head. "But don't worry, I'm done, I'm done. Spontenaity, you were talking about spontenaity."   
  
"Well, yes," he replies, pulling the covers off himself. "I was thinking we could do something fun by ourselves. Away from the rest of the gang. I mean, I love them, but we rarely get to spend some time alone, just you and me."   
  
Whoa, am I laughing again?   
  
"What's so funny this time?!"  
  
"Nothing, nothing," I say, barely able to contain myself.   
  
"That doesn't look like nothing," he says motioning towards me with a smile. "Am I here simply for your amusement? I try to be a good boyfriend and I get laughed at."   
  
"No! It's just--" Oh Hell, what's the use? There's no way I could possibly put anything to words right now, so why should I even try?   
  
Boyfriend? Did he say boyfriend? He definitely said boyfriend. That's the first time he's said boyfriend. This must be like 1985 because there's no way a thirty year old in her right mind would be thinking these things.   
  
Oh that explains it, I'm not in my right mind.  
  
I spring up and practically jump into Michael's arms. I kiss him, then pull away with the smile still fresh on my face.   
  
"That sounds perfect."   
  
"Syd, you never cease to amaze me," he jokes as he shakes his head.   
  
"In a good way or bad way?" I ask. What has come over me? I have absolutely no clue. I guess you could say I have a crapload of pent up energy from last night that needs to be released. No, definitely can't blame last night on this because, if anything, it would have been a energy releaser. Is releaser a word? Probably not. But yes, I was using energy last night, not keeping it pent up.   
  
Good God.   
  
I need to stop, really. I can't keep letting my brain turn into Candyland on me! I have to remain atleast somewhat sane!  
  
How bout Clue? Nah, Clue's too deadly. Guess who? I relate on too much of a personal level.   
  
Twister! I'll let it turn to Twister. Not as sugary sweet and kiddy as Candyland, but definitely more fun and _physical_. When you want to get to know a guy, and I mean _really get to know a guy_, play twister with him.  
  
Where's Barnett when you really need her?  
  
~~~  
  
[Carol's POV]  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about Molls. You're absolutely crazy." I say incredulously as we walk into the coffee shop.   
  
Of course shes one hundred percent right but there's no way I'm going to admit it.   
  
"You were _all over_ him last night!" She exclaims as we step into line.   
  
"No I was not, and I'm insulted that you would say such a thing about me." I retort.   
  
"Well, it's true," she mutters under her breath.   
  
So what if I was flirting with Will a little bit? He's a cute guy. He's smart and funny and unlike a certain bowling alley lawyer I know, has no life shattering secrets that he's been hiding from me for the past three years. Or, uhh...few days.  
  
I shake my head sadly and order my regular coffee and muffin. I don't understand why Molly is on my case about this. It's not like there's a crime in trying to get to know a guy better and actually hitting it off.   
  
"So what if I was, Molls? Tell me where the problem in that lies." I say, sitting down at our usual table by the window.   
  
"Oh well, nothing." Molly says, shaking her head. "Except for the fact that he's from LA and if you form any sort of attatchment to him you're going to be heartbroken when he leaves. Not to mention he's also Sydney's best friend, practically, and I'm sure she wouldn't want you just jumping all over him the second he got here. Oh and then there's the fact that he's been through Hell and back and probably wouldn't want to deal with someone who's just using him to make someone else jealous--"   
  
"What?!" I exclaim in shock. Molly has a tendency to run her mouth, but this time she's gone way too far. "Who say's I'm just using him? I do not _use_ men, Molly."   
  
"I never said you did--" She says, failing miserably at covering her slip up.   
  
"Oh yes you most definitely did," I say, nodding my head vigorously. There's no way I'm letting her get by with this.   
  
"Okay, fine, maybe I did, but I was just trying to get at a point. The only reason why you've latched on to Will in the past few days is because you feel like Ed has violated your trust. He didn't just keep that from you, Carol, he kept it from all of us, too. He had no other choice, and that's no reason to flip out on him and jump into bed with the first cute guy you see."   
  
"First of all, I haven't _jumped into bed_ with him," I say defensively. Atleast not yet. "Second of all, I'm not doing this to make Ed jealous. Opposed to popular belief, my life does not revolve around Edward J. Stevens."   
  
Or maybe it does, but that doesn't matter. All I know is that I may not consider myself worthy of Ed, but now I definitely know Ed's not worthy of me. I don't want to be with a man that is able to lie to his friends for years, _years_, and just act like everything is hunky dory. And yes, hunky dory _is_ still a commonly used phrase.   
  
If you had the chance to put all the drama of your regular life behind, and be with this tall, handsome, blonde haired, blue eyed, California beach boy reporter, wouldn't you do it?!  
  
"Speak of the devil," Molly says, looking out the window. There he is. Will, I mean. There he is walking up to _this_ store. He's a good guy, he really is...  
  
"He's a good guy," whoa, freaky, "so just don't hurt him, okay, Carol?"   
  
"Molly, you're acting like I'm King Kong or something. I'm not going to hurt him, okay?" I say laughing. "And why are you so possessive of Will all of a sudden?"   
  
"Because I know what's best for you..." She says, trailing off as Will walks into the restaurant and spots us. I smile and wave to him. Like Hell you know what's best for me.   
  
"Hey Carol, hey Molly," Will calls out, walking up to us. "I can't get enough of this town, you two are so lucky to actually get to live in it."   
  
You would think, wouldn't you?  
  
"I'm glad you like it here," Molly says, smiling. "You know what? I actually have to head out. I've got a meeting back at school with some teachers about pay raises. I'll see you guys a little later though."   
  
"Oh yeah, sure. See ya later, Molly," Will says, standing up as Molly stands up. See? He's even a gentleman. A gentleman for Godssake!  
  
Molly leaves and Will sits back down, in her seat this time.   
  
"Carol, I was actually hoping I could talk to you--" he says, but my attention is immediately diverted to the door, where Ed just walked in, bumping into Molly in the process. She's saying something to him, pointing to the table...Oh God, he's looking...  
  
I pretend to be deep in conversation with Will and plaster the fakest smile ever in the creation of fake smiles on my face. Might as well throw a laugh in there too.   
  
"Carol? Are you listening to me?" Will asks, shaking his head confused.   
  
"Yeah, yeah!" I say, laughing. I try to catch a glimpse of Ed, but he's moved.   
  
"Then what did I say?" He asks. Sh-t.   
  
"I'm sorry, I was zoning out..." I say, embarassed.   
  
"Yeah, I thought so. I was saying that I'm not so sure I want to really start a relationship of any sort while I'm here in Stuckeyville...I just want to lay low and relax, you know? But you're such an awesome person and I'd really love to be friends with you. And I know that sounds so incredibly cliche and corny, but it's true. I've had a rough go for the past year or so, and it's nice to actually have a friend who's pure bred, one hundred percent normal."   
  
He did not just give me the 'Let's just be friends' line. I _invented_ that line. He so did not just deliver _that line_ to its inventor. I'm speechless. And kind of heartbroken. But I can't break into all out sobs seeing that I've known this guy for like two days and haven't even started going out with him. Yeah, that would be uber-creepy. I could play it cool, and act like I never really was coming on to him...  
  
Nope. Not possible. I have that "How could you do this to me?!" crossed with "I'm not good enough for anyone, am I?" look all over my face and he's starting to feel guilty, I can tell.   
  
This isn't his fault, Carol, don't make him feel like he's done something wrong because he's done nothing wrong. Tell him you're cool with it because that's all you can really do right now.   
  
Suck it up and move on.   
  
"I'm sorry, Carol, I really am," he says, reaching a hand out towards me. Wow, I must seem really desperate. I smile sadly (what? I'm not allowed to be sad now?) as he places it on my hand. I place mine on top of his and look him in the eye.   
  
"No, _I'm_ sorry," I say apologetically, "I didn't mean to come on so strong. But yeah, I would absolutely love to be your friend, Will Tippin. Maybe you could even give me some tips for breaking into the world of journalism."   
  
I'm not going to lie, this is really disappointing. I thought I atleast had a shred of attractiveness left, but apparently that left with Ed's adoration. A part of me was really going after him just to see how Ed would react, I admit it. I know it's screwy, but the relationship we have is dysfunctional, to say the least. I'm angry at him, that's obvious. I know how to really piss him off, too: come on to a guy that's not him. Burns him up inside _every time_. To take the attention away from him and his little bowling alley law firm for just one moment.   
  
"Yeah, for sure, for sure." Will responds smiling. Will's cute. Will's beyond cute. I wish I could just start a relationship with him free of lies and histories and weird feelings of inadequacy and him putting me up on this gigantic pedestal. I have a right to be angry at Ed after this whole ordeal. I adore Sydney and Michael and I love the fact that they can enjoy a semi-normal life here with us, but...How could Ed lie to me this whole time?  
  
Yeah, it's in the past and really bares no impact on his life here in Stuckeyville, but if he really wanted to be with me so badly, why didn't he try telling the truth for once?  
  
See? Our dysfunctional relationship is _not_ my fault. It's all his. _He_ created this unattainable image of me in his mind. _He_ had to go and be perfect in every possible way leaving it virtually impossible for me to ever match up in any way. And most importantly, _He_ lied to me.   
  
"I'm so glad you're cool with this, Carol," Will says happily as he stands up. "I knew you'd understand."   
  
I smile and nod my head. He's a sweet guy, but it's probably best that he ended this before it started. Relationships that involve me and other men are bound for disaster. If only I were a lesbian, maybe I wouldn't have these problems...  
  
But I'm pretty sure comittment is an issue for homosexuals and heterosexuals alike.   
  
And by committment, I mean psycological disorders that make you refuse to be with the perfect man who is madly in love with you, even when you have feelings for him, too.   
  
"Well, I have to get going. There's a ton of stuff I have to figure out for work and at my place--" My, my, look who it is. "Oh hey, Ed! I was just saying I was about to head out of here."   
  
"Hey, Ed! What's up?" Whoa, way too cheery and way too obvious. I might as well scream: Go to Hell, Ed Stevens, man of my dreams!   
  
"Carol," he says with a laugh as he nods toward me, "are you alright?"   
  
"Yes, I'm perfectly fine." If perfectly fine means psycopathic, sure! I'm perfectly fine! "I'll see ya later, Will!"   
  
"See ya, Carol. See ya, Ed -- Oh, and we'll definitely have to play basketball sometime. " He says, pointing to Ed.   
  
"Saturdays, ten AM, at the one and only Stuckeyville Park." He says, sticking a bagel in his mouth. "We'll have a Stuckeyville versus LA game -- The ultimate west coast/east coast battle. Or midwest, whatever you consider Ohio."   
  
Stuckeyville vs. LA? You so know LA would win. Okay, let's see: Will and Michael, Ed and Mike. No contest. There's no denying Ed's good looks, I'm just saying...Stuckeyville had the cute, dopey thing doing for them. LA, on the other hand, has the "You're so frighteningly good looking, do me right here, right now," thing along with the "I now pronounce you man and wife" thing going for them.   
  
I might go and watch. It would be fun to see Ed get his ass kicked.   
  
Oh yeah, but he's physically incapable of getting his ass kicked because he's been trained by the CIA in how to not get his ass kicked. Too much kicking of the ass, I know.   
  
"Yeah, man," Will says with a grin before turning to leave. "I'll see you guys later."   
  
I watch as Will leaves the restaurant and walks down the street.   
  
"So, what's up with you two?" Ed asks suspiciously eying me.   
  
"Oh, nothing," Ice cold. Seriously, ice water must run through my veins because I've mastered the cold shoulder.   
  
Ed's looking at me in that way that he always does when he knows somethings up. He kind of raises on eye brow and his eyes squint a little bit, focusing on his prey. He slowly puts down the bagel, picks up a napkin and wipes his face. He folds the napkin over, placing it back down onto the table, then leans in.   
  
"Carol, what's going on here?"   
  
"I don't know what you're talking about, Ed," I say, picking up my coffee and taking a sip of it. Must avoid eye contact...  
  
"Ha. You so do. You're not making eye contact with me, there's definitely something up."   
  
"What, did they teach you that at your little CIA training camp?"   
  
He sighs and raises his hands in frustration before hitting the table.   
  
"I knew something was up," he says sitting back briefly, before leaning back in and speaking in a hushed tone, "I told you guys I was sorry. I had no other choice, you have to understand where I'm coming from."   
  
"Oh, I understand where you're coming from," I say, also lowering my voice. "And you wonder why I never gave you a chance." Oh, I'm really asking for it, aren't I?  
  
"Oh man, you've got to be kidding me!" He exclaims, shocked. The hands are back up in the air, what a suprise. Ed was always one for the hand gestures. "It always comes back to that, doesn't it? What does me not telling you about CST and my father have _anything_ to do with you being too scared to give us a chance?"   
  
"It has everything to do with it." I say bitterly. "You _lied_ to me, Ed."   
  
"Just tell me this one thing: how does that have absolutely anything to do with my life now? Yes, I didn't tell you guys because I was not permitted _by law_ to tell you, but I also made a moral decision. I knew that it would make no difference whether I told you about it or not...It's not like I'm going out on missions everyday and hiding it from you. I'm still the same Ed you know and love, Carol."  
  
No, you're not the same Ed I love, and I'm not so sure whether I know you anymore.   
  
I shake my head and push my chair out. I can't go on with this argument. Mainly because he's right. He's positively right and I have no way to argue back. What am I supposed to say? "Oh yeah, you're right, I was just trying to find a reason to explain why I'm so stupid and can't just let myelf experience true happiness for just one moment." Yeah, that definitely won't work.   
  
I want to be with Ed. I want to be with him so badly. But a part of me keeps saying no. I'm not good enough for him. I'll disappoint him. So why put him through that just for my own enjoyment?   
  
God, I really do have issues. I need a shrink, and I need one bad.   
  
"Carol!" Ed calls out as I throw my trash away and walk out the door.   
  
I walk across the street, and look back at the restaurant through the corner of my eye. All I see is Ed sitting alone at the table, shaking his head in his hands.   
  
Yeah, I think I need ten shrinks.   
  
~~~  
  
[Syd's POV]   
  
"So, are we ever going to find our own place or will we just crash at Ed's the whole time?" I ask as I sit down by the lake and pull Michael down with me.   
  
"I don't know," he responds thoughtfully, "we've only been _together_ together for a week. I don't know if I'm ready to take that jump in our relationship." God, I could just eat that smile up. Yet again: cute if taken figuratively, really really creepy and disgusting if taken literally.   
  
"You're a riot, you know that, right?" I say sarcastically as I push him playfully.   
  
"I know, it's what you love about me," he says, leaning back on his hands.   
  
"Oh really? What makes you think that?" I question, turning to face him.   
  
"I distinctly recall you saying it last night in the throws of passion. I think the direct quote was 'Oh Michael, right there, don't stop, say it again, say it again. I can't live without you're witty sarcasm.'" He says with a straight face as he puts his sunglasses on.  
  
"Ha ha, laugh it up," I joke as I lean into him. He wraps his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close against him.   
  
"Why are we here again?" He asks impatiently after a few moments of silence.   
  
"To do stuff we 'never get the chance to do otherwise.'" I respond as I pick up his hand and trace the lines on it with the tip of my index finger.   
  
"Crap, I knew that would come back to bite me in the ass, eventually," he sighs.   
  
"Watch it, or _I'll_ come back and bite you in the ass," I say, laughing.   
  
"Kinky."   
  
Biting the ass. Definitely not my style.  
  
"What happened to the whole 'I want to be a good boyfriend' show?" I ask, turning to face him once again.   
  
"Boyfriend is so juvenile. I prefer to be called a male companion."   
  
HA. HA. HA.   
  
"Male companion?! Since when did this transformation take place? Never would I expect for those words to come out of your mouth. Except for maybe when you were first assigned to me and we're such a prick and an ass."   
  
"I was _not_ the prick, and most certainly not the ass. If I recall correctly, you were the one who thought you could go out and bring SD-6 down in one day."   
  
"Alright, alright, this argument will never end, so why don't we stop before it even starts. Back to the male companion bit. I think man whore is more like it. You, my friend, are my man ho."   
  
"I am shocked and appauled that that's all I am to you." He says taking off his glasses in mock anger. "After all these years. After all we've been through..."   
  
"Yup." I retort simply.   
  
"See, if I called you my bitch or ho, it would be derrogatory and demeaning. Yet you can call me a man ho with absolutely no remorse."  
  
"Yup."   
  
"I'm telling you, it's sexism."  
  
"Yup." I reply with a laugh this time.   
  
"Okay, fine by me. As long as I atleast get some out of it, I'm good. And I did mean what I said about being a good 'man ho' to you. I just expected it to be a little more exciting than sitting here and watching the grass grow and the water ripple."   
  
"Fine, what would you rather do?" I ask. I love this. I love our incessant banter and bickering. It's like we're an old married couple, but not. Whoa, marriage? I didn't just say marriage.   
  
"Watch ESPN's World Strongest Man contest that just happens to be starting in five minutes."   
  
Sydney Vaughn. Mrs. Sydney Vaughn. Sydney Bristow-Vaughn? Ugh, no. Mr. and Mrs. Michael Vaughn. That's the ticket.  
  
THIS IS WHAT THE WORD MARRIAGE DOES TO ME! AHH!  
  
"Um, no." I say immediately.   
  
"Why not?" He whines like a little baby. Little Mikey Wikey would rather watch men with abnormally large necks pick up tree trunks and cars or whatever they pick up, than spend time with me. I'm insulted.   
  
"Because I so know you sit on your couch on your days off in your ratty Kings T-shirt and those black sweats and watch it non-stop."   
  
"So what if I do? And It's not non-stop, just so you know. It rarely comes on and that's why it's such a momentous occasion for me." Sigh.   
  
"If you wanted to watch it why did you say we were going to spend the day together?!" I ask, confused.   
  
"You seem like the World's Strongest Man kinda girl. We could watch World's Strongest Woman, too if you really want. They do it together..." Oh man...  
  
"No, Michael. That is clearly something that we could very well do at any other occasion."   
  
"Except when it's not airing on ESPN..."  
  
"Michael..." I say warningly. Ha! I think we know who wears the pants in this relationship.   
  
"So instead we are just going to sit here and watch the lake. Fun. Who am I kidding? I'd much rather watch that leaf float by than watch Ivan Barishvika strain to pick up a 900 pound stone."   
  
"Are you always this stubborn?" I ask tiredly. It was cute at first, but this man never gives up.   
  
"Only with you." Well that's a relief. Sarcasm, sarcasm.   
  
"And why might that be?" I ask, tilting my head.   
  
"Because you're gorgeous when you're frazzled," he says, pulling me closer to him. Damn, why does he always know exactly what to say to make my heart melt? It's a freakish skill.   
  
"Nice cover," I say, sinking into his lap, "and did you just say 'frazzled'?"  
  
"No."   
  
"Okay, just checking. And you don't look so bad yourself. Those sunglasses are tres hot." I sit up once agan and take his glasses off his face and look at the brand. "Ooh, Dolce and Gabbana. No wonder. Michael's got some style." I joke, taking his chin and moving it from side to side. That smile has mysterious powers, I swear. It's like it is begging me to kiss it...  
  
I lean in and kiss him.   
  
Whoa there...  
  
Whoa there...Gotta pull away before we get arrested for indecent exposure. I pull away and we're both out of breath and he's got this bright smile plastered on his face.   
  
"Okay, clearly you're horny, I'm horny...Why don't we just go back to Ed's place and fornicate like little bunnies all day long." Okay, wierd. A guy has never admitted that he's horny to me, and I must admit, it's a little creepy. Even creepier that he wants us to 'make like bunnies.'   
  
"Tell me about your first crush," I say sitting in front of him.   
  
"What?" He asks, disoriented.   
  
"Tell me about your first crush." I repeat.   
  
"I guess fornicating is out of the picture, isn't it?" He replies, disappointed.   
  
"If you talk now, I promise we'll fornicate later."   
  
"Sweet! Okay, first crush?" He asks, looking out into the distance and scratching his head. Who actually scratches their head when they think, besides cartoon characters? Clearly, Michael. How cute. "Definitely Lynda Carter...Wonder woman! She was beyond hot in that skimpy little outfit she used to fight crime in--"   
  
I should have known he'd say that.   
  
"No, Michael, I mean a _real_ person." I say, rolling my eyes.   
  
"You mean Wonder Woman isn't real?!" He asks, tears welling up in his eyes. What a jokester. I never would have expected him to be this playful in a million years. But I guess it's understandable seeing that we met in dark warehouses and discussed life or death missions.   
  
"Jenny Candol, eighth grade," he says, laughing as he wipes the tears from his eyes.   
  
"Eighth grade? That's so old!" I say with a grin.   
  
"What can I say, I held my crushes out til I found the right one." He says, smiling. "Man, she was like perfect. She was tall...but not as tall as me. Definitely a plus. She had blonde hair and blue eyes, and she was American. She was like my dream girl."   
  
I gasp and punch his shoulder.   
  
"Ow! What?" My glare is seriously burning a hole through him, I swear. "Oh! No! Of course _you're_ my dream girl...She was my dream girl in France." I laugh and ease up.   
  
"So this was while you were still in France? I never saw you as the blonde bimbo kind of guy." Oh man, that was harsh.   
  
"Hey, not all blondes are bimbos." He says, defensively. "And yeah, I had this sick obsession with American girls when I was younger. I was so excited to move to America because I knew that girls were so much hotter and more mature here than they were in France."   
  
"Oh really?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Really," He responds laughing as he puts a strand of hair behind my ear. "What about you?"   
  
"Jonas Andrews, second grade." I say wistfully.   
  
"My, my, horny even as a seven year old. I must admit, I'm not suprised." He jokes, laughing.  
  
"Shut up." This is beyond nice.   
  
"So, his name was Jonas." Michael says carefully. I know where this is going...  
  
"Yes, and no, he wasn't carrying the wheel." I respond with a laugh.   
  
"Damn, you're good. Great song. Early Weezer, good stuff."   
  
"I never saw you as a Weezer kind of guy," I say, thinking of how un-Weezerlike he seems.   
  
"Hey, I may be old, but I still have cousins."   
  
"Most embarassing High School moment?" I ask, suddenly.   
  
"Why do all our conversations always turn into this?! I mean, it's not a bad thing, it's just funny." His hands have found my hips and I'm in heaven.   
  
"Because it's fun. I've known you for so long but there's so much that I don't know about you...How else are we going to know everything about each other?" I ask seriously.   
  
"I could write a resume and send it your way. Then we could skip the talking and go straight for the fornicating."   
  
"You're not going to get out of it that easily," I say, grinning. "Most embarassing moment, go!"   
  
He takes a deep breath and the most geniune smile I have ever seen him have spreads across his face.   
  
"Freshman year. I got pushed into the girls' locker room after baseball practice. Needless to say it was also my best high school moment. Maybe the best moment of my life to date."   
  
"You perv!" I exclaim pushing him, yet again.   
  
"What?! Any teenage boy would have been embarassed yet extremely pleased with that predicament."   
  
"You horny little man."   
  
"_Little_? Again, I don't th--" I immediately jump up and clamp his mouth closed with my hands. He pulls them off and starts laughing as he falls to the ground, pulling me down along with him.   
  
"Yeah, this is better than World's Strongest Man. You were right." He admits, resting his head on his propped up elbow.   
  
Of course I was right. I'm always right.   
  
**END CHAPTER FIFTEEN**


	16. I'll Be Fine Without You

****

Chapter Sixteen: I'll Be Fine Without You   
  
_Damn you, damn everyone  
I'll be fine without you  
I'm still tired of running into you  
Try one that's with you  
Tear my heart in two  
  
"Damn You, Damn Everyone," Foo Fighters_  
  
[Warren's POV]  
  
"Children, children, settle down now," Mr. Saunders says with a grin as he walks into the classroom.  
  
"When will he realize that I'm not a child and am a full grown woman who's capable of satisfying his every need?" I hear Michelle complain frustratedly. My question is when will _she_ realize that _I'm_ a full grown _man_ capable of satisfying _her_ every need? Now that Ms. Hanton is officially off the market, I have to find other women, my friend.   
  
Mr. Saunders sits and places his briefcase on his desk. I wonder if he has a Chinese death star in that briefcase. I'm sure he does. I mean, what CIA agent _doesn't_ carry a death star twenty-four seven?  
  
He takes off his jacket and places it on the back of his chair.   
  
"Ow-ow, take it off," I hear someone wisper and then a collective sigh from the smitten females of the class. It's a wonder that they haven't dropped him like last week's mystery meat. Teenage girls: so fickle. The fact that he's captivated them for so long is shocking...He must be the real deal. Thank God they don't know the truth or there'd be no hope for the rest of us.   
  
I bet he's really buff under all those layers. You'd have to be buff to be able to kick ass like he can. And that's simply an observation, verging on inference. Absolutely no sexual connotation whatsoever. Really!   
  
I wish I could be that buff. What am I saying? I already _am_ that buff. Don't you know it.   
  
Maybe he'll let me borrow that gun holster of his. I'm sure he has a ton at home...That thing must be a chick _magnet_.   
  
I'm considering styling my hair a la Michael Saunders. Dye it light brown, perhaps. Make it stick up sorta...But not in that over-gelled wave that has been going around lately. The man is my hero. I shall, from this point on, model myself after him. Just point me in the direction of the nearest Lens Crafters, schedule me an appointment after school to get green contacts, and I'm _so there_.   
  
The class suddenly quiets down as he pulls a stack of xeroxed packets out of his bag and starts to pass them around.   
  
"Because I'm such a merciful teacher, I decided to actually make you all copies of the outline of the next chapter." He starts as he walkes down the first aisle. I hear Michelle whisper to Jenny behind me.   
  
"I bet he's a merciful lover."  
  
"Does that even make sense?" Jenny asks, confused.   
  
"No, it actually doesn't," I say, turning around. Yeah, those definitely aren't 'come hither' stares so I'll be facing forward once again. Being shot down is _not_ fun.   
  
I wonder what aftershave he uses, because he's definitely attracting the girls in this class like dogs to a fire hydrant. Oh, snap! Score one for the Chez's use of similie! I'll have to ask him when we chizzill at the Stuckeybowl. Because you all know me and Mizzike are like this. And by this, I mean TIGHT. Again, in a completely non-sexual way.   
  
But really, get this: as he walks down aisle handing out packets to everyone, Chrissy completely turns around and starts _sniffing_ him! No standards, it's sick really. I was kind of tempted to do the same thing, but realized that would really be verging on creepy. Actually, creepy doesn't fully encompass the wierdness of that. Let's just say I'm thankful my better judgement won out for once.   
  
"Cheswick," I hear Mark call me and I turn around to him after taking a packet from Mr. S (Yes, he is deserving of the one initial last name. I pity the fool who thinks Mr. T has anything on him). I shoot him a "you're my dawg" look with the accompanying chest pump and head nod. And yes, I'm still ass white, but I'm working on it! Cut me some slack.   
  
Mark rolls his eyes at me before speaking up in a hushed tone.   
  
"So isn't it crazy that he really does what he does?" He asks, motioning to Mr. Saunders with his head. I promptly shush him and point a warning finger in his face.   
  
"Marcus, if you speak a word of this to anyone and prove to them that we aren't trustworthy, I'll bitch slap you _so hard_--"  
  
"Warren!" Mr. Saunders's yell pulls me out of my strict reprimand of Mark. "Have you been listening to a word I just said?"   
  
Silence.   
  
"That's what I thought. Now pay attention or you're really regret it when it comes time to turn these papers in."   
  
Oh man, that was cold. Ice cold. Add that to the things to do/characteristics to adopt to be more like Michael Saunders List. Be all business when it comes to work. Ice water runs through my veins.   
  
But what right does he have to yell at me? I thought he's my "peep" now. We're tight...  
  
Who am I kidding? I loved it. You know I loved it. If I could go through it again I probably would just to take notes. He's just so damn cool. He's like Hugh Jackman...One minute he's romancing the ladies, being all charming and witty, and the next minute he's going all Wolverine on your ass.   
  
Sh-t, I really should be paying attention.   
  
"Questions? Yes, Chrissy," Mr. Saunders says, leaning his back on the front of his desk.   
  
"Do you shot at Banana Republic, Mr. Saunders?"   
  
"What does this have _anything_ to do with your paper, Chris?" He asks, furrowing his eyebrow.   
  
"Absolutely nothing. So do you?"   
  
"Yeah, a little," He replies, walking back to his seat.   
  
I think a little trip to the mall is in order. Banana Repulblic, check.   
  
"Really? I thought so. You look like a Banana kinda guy. Going for the shabby chic--"  
  
"What about J. Crew?" Michelle butts in.  
  
"Yeah, I guess so," Mr. S responds, looking up bemusedly.   
  
J. Crew? Check.   
  
Man this wardrobe will wipe me out.   
  
"Now are we done with this fashion inquisition and are we ready to move onto more interesting things like..."   
  
Please don't say the last night's assignment, please don't say last night's assignment...  
  
"Last night's reading."   
  
Sh-t.   
  
~~~  
  
"Since I gave you guys that outline, I'm not planning on going over the chapter. So I expect you all to read through the chapter along with it and be ready for a test towards the end of the week--" Mr. Saunders stops as he realizes his attempt was futile. Yes, the girls love him and the guys are mad jealous of him, but like I said -- teenagers are still the fickle pickles.   
  
I like pickles.   
  
As usual, me, Diane, and Mark stick around for a few minutes after class.   
  
"So, Mr. Saunders," I say as I shove my hands into my pockets and start grinning like a fool.   
  
"So, _Warren_..." He responds sarcastically, sitting down in his chair and leaning back.   
  
"So if you're not _really_ a teacher, isn't the fact that you're teaching us both wrong and non-beneficial to us as Seniors seeing that we're taking this class in order to prepare us for college?" Why does Diane always find a way to ruin the perfect segway into the 'Yo, my dawg, what deoderant do you use because I want to be your teenage twin.'  
  
"Trust me, Diane, I'm prepping you well," he says nonchalantly as he plays with a pencil. "In case you've forgotten, I _did_ go to college, and I'm pretty sure I remember what it was like."   
  
"Ah, sure, but the real question is _where_ did you go to college?" She asks suspiciously. "For all we know, you could have just gone to the nearest community college."   
  
That would be sweet, even though I know he didn't. I mean, if I want to be him, that means I have to go to the same college (or as close to the same as I can get), and you know it'll be a lot easier for the Chez to rock Stuckeyville Community College Michael Saunders style than Harvard.   
  
"Diane, I'm sure the man is a erudite scholar who went to one of the top schools in the nation." Mark replies cooly.   
  
Eru-what?! Mark done got himself an edge-a-macation!  
  
Mr. S laughs and points a finger at Mark.   
  
"That, my friend, just earned you an A for the term."   
  
"I only speak the truth," Mark jokes, shrugging. Oh God, someone please gag me with a spoon and put me out of my misery now. If anyone's going to be kissing Mr. Saunders's ass, it's going to be me. Dammit! Why do I always have to speak with sexual undertones?!  
  
"Mark, you've got a little something on your nose..." I say, touching my nose discreetly.   
  
"Ha ha, Cheswick."   
  
"No, but really, where did you go to college?" I ask, thoroughly interested.   
  
"I actually went to Columbia." He responds, standing up and picking up his briefcase. "Would you like to know what honors I graduated with, Diane?"  
  
"H-h-honors?" I knew that smitten kitten was hiding somewhere under all that thick outer layer. Leave it to the hot guy with the brains to steal Diane's heart.   
  
He laughs as he clips his briefcase shut.   
  
"You guys should really get to class...I'm not sure how much Syd'll like starting off another week being late."   
  
Syd. Sydney. Sydney Hanton. Ms. Sydney Hanton.   
  
Mrs. Sydney Cheswick.   
  
Sigh.   
  
But alas, that dream is gone. Atleast for now.   
  
There's no way I could ever win her over now. Not only is she a nymph with kick-ass capacities, but her boyfriend is superhuman. No competition whatsoever. Give it up, Cheswick, cause it's never going to happen.   
  
"You're right, see ya Mr. S!" I call out as I walk out the door.   
  
"Mr. S?" He asks with a hint of confusion with some disgust mixed in.   
  
Ditch the S. Maybe something more personal...Mike. Nah, too bland and boring. Mikey? Definitely not. Too...Creepy, I guess? Mizzike? Too Snoop Dogg.   
  
M to the S-a? I think we've got a winner. Watch out J to the L-o, you've got some mad competition on your heels.   
  
By the time I start paying attention to what Mark and Diane are bickering about, we are at the top of the stairs and I wish I could have prolonged my space out for a while longer.   
  
"I don't know _what_ you are talking about, Mark. You are being completely and utterly irrational."   
  
"You've got to be kidding me! I've _never_ seen you look at me like that. And I'm your _boyfriend_!"   
  
"Mark, the man is like 30 something. The thought of me being involved with a man his age is illegal!"  
  
"Ha, 'illegal'? The thought doesn't repulse you, it doesn't make you sick, it's simply 'illegal.' You are unbelievable!"   
  
"Hey! What do you expect me to say...'I don't think the undeniably gorgeous, green-eyed, kick-ass, Columbia graduate that teaches our History Class is hot in the least bit.' _That_ is unbelievable! Why am I not allowed to oogle over guys when you and Cheswick are allowed to oogle over any woman that crosses your path?!"   
  
"Did someone mention The Chez and his _ladies_?" I ask as we walk through the door into Ms. Hanton's class.   
  
"Shut up, Cheswick," they say simultaneously.   
  
They keep bickering and I'm just thankful that Ms. Hanton isn't here despite the fact that the bell rang a few minutes ago. I need time to formulate some sort of game plan. How will I make her wildly jealous and really regret the fact that she's got M to the S-a rather than me?   
  
Oh man, I don't think there's anything I can do. Even having Jessica Martel on my arm wouldn't make this situation any easier.   
  
Think, man, think!  
  
I know what I'll do--  
  
Suddenly, Ms. Hanton walks through the door and every thought I once had in my head has escaped. I swear she's moving in slow motion. Yeah, and that wind that blows her hair as she walks and the white light that exudes off of her...  
  
Snap out of it, Warren! Get yourself together!  
  
You can't daydream about your peep's woman. No. Down, boy, down.   
  
"Hey, Warren," did she just say "Hi" to me? Did she? I definitely didn't say "Hi" to her so she definitely did that on her own will...  
  
"H-h-hey Ms. Hanton."   
  
Damn the stutter! Damn it to Hell! Why must you always stutter when you talk to the woman of your dreams?!  
  
Yes, she is still the woman of my dreams, no matter how much I try to deny it.   
  
A man can have dreams. Even if those dreams will never become reality.   
  
Sigh.   
  
~~~  
  
"Hit me with the shots," I say exasperatedly as I plop down on a stool at the Goat.   
  
"I don't think so," Old Charlie says, shaking his head at our oh-so-familiar exchange.   
  
"A beer?"   
  
"Try again."   
  
"Okay, fine, a coke with a little summin' summin' mixed in??" I ask, wiggling my eyebrows and leaning over the bar. He just stares at me.   
  
"Dammit, just give me some milk, alright?!"  
  
"That's more like it."   
  
I've had a tough afternoon. Tough doesn't begin to describe the heartache I was forced to endure during Ms. Hanton's class. I told myself over and over again that I was over her, that it could be no longer...She's a goddess and I'm a mere mortal. We can't be together. And I understand that, and I've accepted it, and I am obsessed with her boyfriend...  
  
Then why do I still want her so badly?   
  
Damn teenage crushes. And hormones for that matter.  
  
"Hey, man," I turn around and see Ms. Hanton and Mr. Saunders's friend, Will, sit down on the stool beside me.   
  
"Oh, hey--" I say somewhat awkwardly. First of all, I don't really know him and this is a little bit uncomfortable. Second of all, I definitely have a milk mustache...  
  
Wipe! Wipe! Wipe!  
  
There we go.   
  
"Milk. Does a body good." Will says with a chuckle as he motions to my cup with his hand. Oh God, you've _got_ to be kidding me.   
  
"Dude, that's so ten years ago. Now it's 'Got Milk?' Get with the times." Yes, I tend to lash out when I'm in a state of desperation and depression.   
  
"Oh, sorry," he says, shaking his head. He orders a beer then turns back to me. Why can _he_ order a beer and I can't?! And don't bring up that whole me not being 21 yet thing, because we all know that's crap. I want to drown my sorrows on some booze, and instead I get to do it with a wonderful Dairy product milked from the udders of cows. How pleasant.   
  
"You must be sulking about Syd," he responds, taking a sip of his beer.   
  
"How did you--" Dude, this man is psycic, for real.   
  
"You're talking to a man who spent five years with that look that you have right now."  
  
"So you had the hots for her too?" I ask in shock. Actually not really shock because I'm not suprised in the least. She's a heartbreaker.   
  
He nods his head with a grin. "Let me give you one piece of advice -- don't. Just don't. Syd is a special woman, and trust me, as much as I'd love to be in Mike's place, I'm happier with my role as best friend."   
  
Friend, eh?  
  
"He may be in her bed, but I'm in her head."   
  
How corny. Yet intriguing...  
  
"Friendship, you say? Tell me more, Will Tippin, of this _friendship_ you speak of..."  
  
**END CHAPTER SIXTEEN**


	17. You're Not the One, But You're the Only ...

**Chapter Seventeen - You're Not the One, But You're the Only One**  
  
_Everyone makes one mistake __  
One more time for old time's sake   
One more time before the feeling fades   
You're not the one,   
But you're the only one who can make me feel like this   
You're not the one,   
But you're the only one who can make me feel like sh-t   
  
-"The One," Foo Fighters_   
  
[Syd's POV]   
  
11:59 AM. Five minutes before my mission. It's my first in awhile, so I have to admit I'm a bit rusty. But that little briefing from my _handler_, Agent Vaughn, in the Janitor's Closet second period really took away the jitters. And replaced them with Earth shattering--  
  
Alrighty, enough of that. This is a PG-13 narrative, now isn't it? No need to turn it into a sleazy porno flick. Although sleazy porno flicks inolving me and Michael would be damn nice. Damn nice, yet really really kinky and creepy. Come to think of it, it would be creepy as Hell. Wow, how do I let my mind go off on these tangents again?   
  
12:00 PM. Four minutes. Mission objective: Corner a Ms. Carol Vessey and get some classified intel about her and a certain Mr. Edward J. Stevens, JD. Once I accomplish that, coax her into coming with me to the park today after school for a little stroll. Dead drop location: Basketball court three. And of course the dead drop would be her, duh. And what do I get if the mission is completed successfully? Spy sex, baby!   
  
12:03 PM. One minute. One minute closer to the spy sex. It's all about the spy sex. I know it, you know it, all of Stuckeyville knows it. Only because Michael can't keep his big mouth shut (not necessarily a bad thing...So dirty!) and feels the need to spread the news to his little Stuckeybowl posse that is made up of Ed and Mike of course.   
  
I have to admit, the looks I get from them are more than verging on wierd. Although the occasional lick of the lips I get from Ed and pelvic thrust from Mike are good for a laugh or two.   
  
rrrrrriiiiinnnnngggggg.   
  
Ahh, the sweet sound of victory.   
  
"Okay, you guys. Great job today, and make sure you keep up on the reading. I have you guys a few extra minutes at the end of class today to get started because it's a long assignment tonight. And watch out for a not so pop pop quiz tomorrow on chapters nine through twelve."   
  
"Aw man!" They all groan in unison, practically. You gotta love the power you hold over your students as a teacher. It's like they are your puppets and you are the puppet master.   
  
Dance puppets, dance!   
  
Wow, the thought of spy sex has definitely got me way too hyper.   
  
But, dude, it's SPY SEX!  
  
Enough of that, now I'm on the job. Work comes before pleasure. Ha! Yeah, right, I know.   
  
I make my way to Carol's room and knock on the door lightly before walking in.   
  
"Oh, hey, Syd!" She says happily, putting some papers away in her desk. "Whatsup?"   
  
She's in a good mood. Excellent. It's always easier to get someone to talk about something, even if they aren't too happy with it, when they're happy. Wow, I would so suck at teaching a class at CST. "The Key to espionage, you ask? Don't worry, be happy!" It's shocking that I've made it this far.   
  
"I was wondering if you wanna head over to the Goat for lunch." I say nonchalantly as I sit down in a students desk.   
  
"That sounds great! What about Molly?" Molly! I completely forgot! This could have very well been a lot easier if we kept her in mind. But then again, we were a little bit preoccupied during the briefing...  
  
"She's got some meetings with parents during her lunch periods today." I say while chastising myself in my head. Boyscout was so not prepared! Well, he _was_ but...  
  
"Ah, sucks for her!" Carol says excitedly as she puts on her jacket and swings her purse around her shoulder. "Let's go!"   
  
Wow, she's abnormally happy today. What the Hell is she on? I want some of it. Oh wait, I don't need it, I have a Mr. Michael Vaughn to satisfy that sector of the brain. Or body. Same difference.   
  
~~~  
  
_Fifteen Minutes Later at The Goat_   
  
"You're telling me that Warren Cheswick has given up?!" She asks incredulously before taking a sip of her iced tea. I nod with a grin. "We must not be talking about the same Warren Cheswick, then. The Warren Cheswick I know _never_ gives up when it comes to winning a girl over."   
  
"I don't know what to tell you," I say, shrugging my shoulders, "he just stopped. I don't know what happened. You wanna know the even wierder thing? Him and Will have been hanging out a lot lately...They've seriously bonded. It's hysterical."   
  
With the sound of Will's name, Carol immediately perks her head up. Not a good sign. The red flags have popped up and the sirens are on.   
  
"So, how's Will doing?" She asks, trying to play off her reaction as she reaches for her napkin.   
  
"Oh, Will's doing good. He really loves it here. The not-so-fast pace is really what he needed. Atleast that's what he says. I know a part of him still misses his old job back in LA." Okay, why am I talking so much about Will?! I'm not even close to accomplishing my mission, and if I don't accomplish my mission, I'll be one angry CIA agent undercover as a substitute teacher. You better believe it. "But enough about Will. There's something I've been _dying_ to find out about since I came here, but I didn't know if it was like, off-limits or something..."   
  
Good way to ease into the subject, in my opinion. Bravo, Sydney.   
  
"About me?" Carol asks, confused. Yes, about you, you fool!   
  
"Yeah," I reply, smiling.   
  
"What?" She's still baffled by the fact that there's something I've been wondering about her. Why is that so hard to believe? This girl is clueless. She really is.   
  
"What's the deal with you and Ed?" I ask quickly, looking back down at my food.   
  
She practically chokes on her food before taking a long sip of her drink. The exact reaction I was expecting to get. Interesting, very interesting.   
  
"Well, um, I--" Stuttering. Also very interesting.   
  
"Oh, well if you don't want to talk about it, I totally understand." I say immediately. Time to play the guilt card. "I just felt like we've become such good friends, and I've told you about _everything_ yet I don't really know _anything_--"   
  
She reaches her hand out and places it over mine. Bingo. We're in, baby. Spy sex, here I come.   
  
"The relationship I have with Ed is complicated."   
  
"Trust me, I can gurantee you I've heard more complicated things in my life." That's an understatement, my friend.   
  
She looks down, then up at me with sad eyes.   
  
"Me and Ed go way back...All the way back to high school."  
  
"So you guys were high school sweet hearts?" I ask, hiding my 'awwwwww' pretty well.   
  
"Well, no, not exactly. Actually, it's more like 'no, not at all.' We both went to Stuckeyville High, but me and Ed...I guess you could say we were in different cliques."   
  
The joys of high school.  
  
"Quite frankly, I didn't even know who he was until he came back to Stuckeyville." A smile. Smiles are always good. "He bursted into my class one day dressed in a suit of armor. I remember thinking 'Oh, God, someone call the police,' but getting that kind of attention was nice, you know? Well, creepy, seeing that I had no clue who this guy was or what he was doing there, but still sweet nonetheless. From that point on, he made it his mission to win my love. He did some of themost cheesy things I have ever seen, but..." Her voice fades away as her smile does.   
  
"What? Then why aren't you guys together? There are so many gaps in this story it's not even funny."   
  
"I had someone in my life. A jerk, but someone nonetheless. Then he had someone in his life, and it just never worked out." She quickly finishes.   
  
"Why do I get the feeling that you're lying through your teeth?" I ask, leaning over the table.   
  
She shakes her head then turns away.   
  
"Come on, Carol, you can tell me anything," I say reassuringly. She looks back at me with a sad smile, tears welling up in her eyes. I didn't expect her to get so emotional so soon. Clearly something happened recently that made her react in such an outward manner. There's something going on behind the scenes between her and Ed as we speak. And it's not good. Oh damn. Abort mission! Abort mission!   
  
I'm being way too overly dramatic. Cool your jets, Syd, everything will be fine. You've never been one to turn away in the face of a challenge! You rise to the occasion and conquer all! Because Syd _always_ wins. _Always_.   
  
"Oh Carol..."   
  
The tears start spilling, and she starts talking a mile a minute, all of her words slurred together. Good God, oh good God.   
  
"Shhh," I try to quiet her, but something has really been building up, and once the flood gates open, there's no turning back. "Slow down, sweetie."   
  
"I'm not good enough for him." She says sternly, wiping the tears away from her eyes. "He's never going to realize that. We'd never be happy together, because in the end, I would somehow ruin the relationship and he'll hate me. And once that happens I wouldn't have just lost the love of my life, I will have lost one of my best friends too."   
  
Wow. She's so in love with him it's frightening.   
  
"Carol, you're not being reasonable here," I start but she quickly cuts me off.   
  
"You don't know, Syd, you really don't. All of my past relationships--Trust me, if you'd have been here for them, you'd completely know where I'm coming from. The worst part about it all is that I take it out on him. I find a way to make it his fault, when it isn't. It really isn't. It's all my fault."   
  
"Carol, you're really talking like a crazy person, here. I'm not even kidding." I say, trying to hold back the laughter. What?! She _is_ acting like a crazy person! We might as well ship her off to the looney bin here and now.   
  
She laughs bitterly.   
  
"Okay, even if everything you say is true, how are you supposed to find out if it's true if you don't take a chance? Life is about taking chances, sweetie. You can't live life saying, 'oh I can't do this or that because I know it won't turn out well.' If you can predict the future, I can flap my wings and fly."  
  
Syd the comedian, gets them everytime. She laughs slightly before turning back up towards me with a desperate expression on her face.   
  
"Syd, you really don't understand what's going on here."   
  
"Okay, fine, maybe I don't but even if that's the case, I know that keeping all of this bottled up inside isn't healthy. It's not good for you, and not good for him either. Just go and talk to him. Please. For my sake."   
  
She looks at me with a hint of confusion in her eye. She may be on to me, but I don't care at this point. She clearly loves him but has some sort of pyscological issue that won't let her be happy, and I'm not just going to sit and watch two people who belong together fight it for absolutely no reason! It's insane!   
  
"I don't know--"   
  
I look at my watch quickly, then back up at her.   
  
"Hold that thought. I gotta head back to class." I hear her sniffle and wipe her nose with a napkin as I get up hastily. "But I still want to talk to you. Meet me at the park after school. Around 4:30ish."   
  
"Okay," she replies softly.   
  
Trust me, I was competely thrown off guard by her little outburst there, but that means that this is more serious than just a little "hook-up." I know it may seem strange that all of a sudden I'm interested in her and Ed's relationship, but you gotta do what you gotta do sometimes. Even if it makes you seem a little suspicious.   
  
Mission objective comleted. All I have to do now is make the drop. Sweetness.   
  
~~~  
  
[Vaughn's POV]   
  
"Let the battle of the coasts begin." Mike says dramatically as he passes the ball to me.   
  
"You guys are seriously in for the biggest ass kicking of your lives. No doubt." I say as I start to dribble the ball, warming my arm up.   
  
"No doubt? Michael, Michael, Michael. You'll never learn, will you?" Ed jokes, shaking his head sadly. I laugh and turn to Will.   
  
"Back me up here, don't people say 'no doubt' back west?" I ask.   
  
"Well, yeah, people say 'no doubt' everywhere. But face it, dude, you really shouldn't be one of them." Damn this Will. I may be cool with him and he may be becoming a good friend of me and the guys but still, you don't diss Mikey V. Okay, maybe they're right. Aging: every man's worst enemy.   
  
"Enough of this, let's get to the game." I say as I fake Ed out and make the sweetest layup they've ever seen. I'm a showman at heart, I really am.   
  
"Okay, this is war." Mike says taking the ball and checking it. "War."  
  
~~~  
  
We're going on our second game and Syd still hasn't arrived with Carol. What is this?! I thought I made it pretty clear what the parameters of this mission are. She makes the drop, I satisfy her every sexual desire.   
  
I still don't think her stipulation was fair. I somehow have to find a way to get Ed shirtless before they show up because, according to her, "skin is good." She seemed to have forgotten that it's the middle of February, but whatever. All I know is that I have to get this man shirtless without coming off as the least bit gay before she comes here, or I'm kicked out of the room for a week. Damn, that girl drives a hard bargain. And she's so sex driven it's scary. Scary.   
  
"Is it just me or is it getting a little hot out here?" I ask, starting to pull off my sweatshirt.   
  
"What are you talking about, man? It's like 45 degrees." Will replies, looking at me like I'm an oompa-loompa or something. The man is so clueless. SO clueless.   
  
"I don't know what you guys are talking about, I think it's pretty hot out here." The only way I can do this is leading by example. No pain, no gain. I pull off my t-shirt and feel like yelping in pain as the cold air hits my bare skin, but I have the feeling that if I scream like a little girl in front of Ed, I'll regret it for a long time.   
  
They all stare at me like I'm absolutley insane, but I play it off.   
  
"Let's go." It really is hard to stop yourself from convulsing in pain from the bitter cold.   
  
"Alright, man, whatever you say." Mike says picking up the ball again.   
  
You would think that getting your blood pumping and running around would warm you up, but that's so not true. All it does is make more wind hit you. Cold wind. Wind isn't cool. Wind is the devil. Wind needs to go home and never come back.   
  
"Ow-ow. Nice tan." I turn around as I hear a female voice call out to me.   
  
I turn around, looking at the other guys, then back to her. "Are you talking to me?"   
  
"Yeah, you. Are you busy tonight? Maybe we could catch a movie or something." Good lord, I'm being hit on. I'm being _hit on_! Life is good. The woman is pretty, but I must admit, she pales in comparison to Syd. But then again, everyone does.   
  
I blush (yeah, that doesn't warm me up either) then shake my head as I bounce the ball. "Sorry, I've got a girlfriend."   
  
"She's a lucky girl," she says licking her lips. Must. Restrain. The. Desire. To. Jump. Her. Dude, what am I thinking? She's so not Syd. She walks up to the court, and faces me. "Well in case things don't turn out so well," she pulls out a card and writes her number down quickly. "I'm Sam." She discreetly tucks her number inside the waistband of my pants then turns around.   
  
Whoa there.   
  
"Hey! I'm available!" Will calls out as she leaves.   
  
"Dude, I've never seen that happen _ever_ to anyone. You are..." Ed's voice trails off as he starts peeling clothes. SWEET! "A genius."   
  
"Yeah, man, seriously." I turn around, and now Will's doing the same thing. Fool! Put your clothes back on!   
  
All of a sudden, I see Syd and Carol make their way towards the basketball courts. That's my cue...  
  
"Well, guys, I think I should get going." I quickly pull out "Sam's" phone number from my pants and hand it to Will. "Have fun."   
  
"Oh, I will!" He exclaims, staring at the number in awe. It's like the man has never seen a woman's phone number before.   
  
"You can't tell me you're leaving already!" Ed exclaims as I jog towards my stuff.   
  
"Yeah, sorry. I have to prep for class tomorrow. I'll see you guys later though." I pick up my stuff, and turn around to see Syd.   
  
"Oh, hey Syd! What are you doing here?" She grins wildly, and I so know why. What a horny woman. But hey, I can't say I'm complaining.   
  
"I was just walking with Carol here--" She turns to Carol, but she has her eyes locked on Ed's. Hmm, maybe showing skin _is_ the way to a girl's heart...  
  
"Oh well, yeah, I guess I should get going..." Mike says immediately, picking up the ball and walking towards Will. "Right Will?"   
  
"What? Nah, that's alright, I'll stick around for a little--" Mike proceeds to grab Will's elbow and pull him away. Thank you, Mike, thank you. Because God knows I would have bitch slapped him if he got in the way of this "moment" between Ed and Carol.   
  
"I guess, we should get going too--" Syd says, motioning for me to join her. I quickly grab my stuff and walk towards her. I start to put on my T-shirt and I hear Syd whisper to me.   
  
"I think it's working..."   
  
I pull my head through my shirt and look back at the court. Carol has walked up and is face to face with Ed, who has, thank God, gotten his shirt back on.   
  
"Of course it did." I say triumphantly as I pull my sweatshirt over my head. Syd loops her arm around mine and a grin spreads across my face.   
  
"Job well done." She whispers seductively. "Three for the price of one."   
  
"Are all men just objects to you?!" I say in mock anger. "Because if that's the case--"   
  
"If that's the case, what?" She asks, smiling.   
  
"If that's the case..." Oh Hell. You know what I'm going to say. "I'm all for it. I'm not one to turn down getting laid by a hot girl. No matter how shallow she may be."   
  
Yeah, I so asked for that smack.   
  
"I'm not shallow."   
  
"Uh-huh. Says the girl who would only set Carol and Ed up if she got sex in return. Uh huh, yeah."   
  
"What can I say, a girl's gotta look out for her own well being also."   
  
I love this town.   
  
**END CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**


	18. Walking After You

**Chapter Eighteen – Walking After You**  
  
_Tonight I'm tangled in my blanket of clouds__  
Dreaming aloud  
Things just won't do without you   
Matter of fact  
  
If you walk out on me  
I'm walking after you  
  
"Walking After You," Foo Fighters_  
  
[Carol's POV]   
  
Things are complicated between me and Ed, Syd just can't seem to realize that, can she? Life isn't always as simple as her little undercover spy world—  
  
Wait, bad comparison.   
  
All I'm trying to say is that—  
  
Oh God, I don't even know what I'm trying to say. She's talking to me, but in all honesty, I'm not listening to a word of it. I want to be with Ed. That's the bottom line. I just need to get over this massive inferiority complex and move on with my life. He's the perfect guy, and so what if I'm not the perfect girl. He'll have to deal. Because I deserve to have some real happiness in my life.   
  
But what if he doesn't want to be with me anymore?   
  
See, I told you it was complicated.   
  
"Carol, are you even listening to me?!" Syd asks, waving her hand in front of my face.   
  
"Oh man, I'm sorr—" I stop in mid sentence as I spot Ed, Mike, Will, and Michael playing basketball – wait a second, are they SHIRTLESS? Do they realize that it's 45 degrees out? I guess that's what testosterone does to people.   
  
Wait a second. Just wait one second here.   
  
Ed + shirtless = me so horny. Good God. The man has quite the pecks. And six pack for that matter. Me likey da six-packey.   
  
What the Hell is going on here? I'm supposed to be angsty and torn and self deprecating. Not horny!  
  
I shake myself back into reality and as I slowly look around, I realize Michael and Syd have left, along with Will and Mike. So it's just me. And Ed. Shirtless Ed.   
  
I bet his nipples are rock hard.   
  
Because it's cold of course. Dammit, why am I so dirty?!  
  
He reaches down to his stuff and picks up his shirt and begins to pull it on as he approaches me. I look down and try to avoid eye contact. It's a lot easier to declare you love and desire to be with someone in your head. I can barely even speak when I look into those blue eyes.   
  
"Hey Carol, what's up?" He says, all…perky. How does he always manage to be happy and cheerful regardless of anything?! If I recall correctly, the last "interaction" we had didn't exactly end in a chummy-chummy fist knock.   
  
Ha ha. Fist knock. Mental image of Ed and me rockin' the ghetto speak. Good times.   
  
NO! FOCUS, CAROL, FOCUS!   
  
"Ed, I think we need to talk." I say, and walk towards the bench where his stuff is resting to take a seat.   
  
I can sense the apprehension on his part as he follows me. I can't tell if it's anxiety or it's excitement. You can never tell with him. When he wants to hide his emotions, he does a pretty good job at it. Maybe the CIA taught him that.   
  
I'm not angry about that, I'm really not.   
  
Okay, maybe a little. But I'm just using it as an excuse to stay mad at Ed. And being mad at Ed isn't really what I want. I want to be with him.   
  
I want to be with him.   
  
Oh my God.   
  
"So what's going on?" Ed asks as he takes a seat next to me. We sit in silence for a moment as I try to collect my thoughts.   
  
"Ed, let's just stop this all, okay?"   
  
"What? I don't know what you're talking about."   
  
"Stop it, Ed, you so do know what I'm talking about. It's all we've ever talked about for the past three years. Me. And you…Let's just stop it."   
  
He laughs. Why does he always love to laugh at the most inappropriate times?!  
  
"Do you think this is funny?"  
  
"Yes, I actually do." He says, trying to stop his laughter. "Because I have absolutely no clue what you're talking about."   
  
"Ed. Stop it. It's not cute, and it's not funny. This is our lives I'm talking about. Just try to be serious for one second."   
  
That quiets him. He looks down seriously, then back up at me. Wow, angst is certainly in the air.   
  
"Okay, fine, what do you want to talk about? How you don't want to be with me? Or how, wait, you do want to be with me but only because I've found another girl who I want to be with. Or would you rather talk about how you feel like you _aren't good enough_ for me and crap like that. Carol, I don't know what the Hell you're trying to do to me, but I'm sick—"  
  
"I love you." Oh God. I didn't expect to make that big of a jump. Um, last time I checked, I thought before I spoke. How did that come out again?! How did it make it past the high levels of security that prevent such foolish thoughts to be said aloud?!  
  
"What?" He looks shocked. I don't know if it's a good shocked or a bad shocked, but it's a shocked.   
  
"Ed, I love you." There it is. It's out there. For once I'm saying what I feel instead of hiding behind twisted emotions and God-knows-what.  
  
I think he's in shock. I bet this is the last thing he ever expected. And by last I mean last thing on the face of this Earth ever in a million years. Oh lord, I've lost all coherency.   
  
Please, speak. I can't take this silence anymore…  
  
"Well—uhh—" He stutters and starts fidgeting. This can't be good. Brace yourself for rejection, Carol, because you know it's coming.   
  
I turn away and close my eyes. A part of me always expected this. I mean, who's life is ever so perfect, right? You aren't meant to be with the perfect guy. Your night in shining armor. But I can't help but be heartbroken at the same time. I hate being heartbroken.   
  
"You know what, nevermind." I say quickly and stand up as I feel the tears begin to flow down my cheeks. I hate tears. I hate how they're wet and salty and how they fall into your mouth when you begin to cry uncontrollably.   
  
As I walk, I hear him get up and jog towards me. He grabs my wrist and I pull it away violently.   
  
"I said nevermind, Ed. Just pretend like this never happened." Suddenly, I look up and he's standing in front of me. I come to an abrupt halt and try desperately to avoid eye contact with him, but he's like a magnet or something. I just can't keep my eyes away from his.   
  
He silently rests one hand on my waist and brings the other up to my face. He wipes the tears away from my face with his thumb and I'm pretty sure I've died and gone to heaven. I really do need a shrink after all…Whoever feels the whole gamut of human emotions within a span of like five seconds must have issues.   
  
He laughs slightly as his hand rests on the side of my face.   
  
"Carol. You're crazy."   
  
You didn't have to tell me that, my good man, for I already know far too well.   
  
"I—" Before I know it he has his lips on mine.   
  
Oh good God.   
  
Oh sweet lord.   
  
It is everything I've imagined and more. You don't know how many nights I've sat alone in bed (and not alone for that matter) desperately trying to recapture the feeling of his lips on mine. I never forgot that kiss the first night he came back to Stuckeyville, and I'll never forget this. It's unlike anything I have ever experienced.   
  
This isn't just fireworks, this is a seventeen alarm forest fire.   
  
Oh good God.   
  
His lips slowly pull away and his forehead rests on mine.   
  
Hello, Carol Vessey, and welcome to complete and utter bliss. Keep your seatbelt fastened for just a moment longer, we'll be on the ground in no time.   
  
"Does this mean our stupid cat and mouse, roller coaster ride of a friendship is over, and we can officially become a couple?" He asks. I haven't opened my eyes, but I can tell he's grinning. When is this man _not_ grinning?!  
  
"Um, I guess so," I say, also grinning as I open my eyes and lift my head. His smile fades as his hand rests on the side of my face once again and his thumb carresses my cheek.   
  
"Geez, Carol, what took you so long?" He teases.   
  
I shrug my shoulders and look down.   
  
"Maybe if you went around playing basketball shirtless _sooner_ I would have come around."   
  
"Oh my God. You've gotta be kidding me. Mikey's still got it."   
  
"What?" I ask, slightly confused, but still thoroughly amused by the fact that I'm now walking hand in hand with Ed back to the bench.   
  
He reaches down and picks up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder.   
  
"Nothing, nothing." He says, laughing to himself. We walk silently for a few moments and a smile as I feel him let go of my hand and wrap his arm around my waist. I let my hand rest on top of his, which is now at my side.   
  
"This is nice." He says, turning his head to me.   
  
"Yeah," I say, nodding, "yeah it is."   
  
**END CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**


	19. XStatic

**Chapter Nineteen -- X-Static**  
  
_wait until the time has come__  
figure that's where time comes from  
leaving all my senses numb  
is heaven  
  
-"x-static," foo fighters_  
  
[Syd's POV]  
  
"I don't believe it. There's no way _you_, Little-Miss-Perfect, sucks at hockey. I refuse to believe it."   
  
God, is it humanly possible for anyone to look better than this man standing before me? I think not. I mean...The stick. Oh lord, I'm far too dirty for my own good.   
  
"Well, you better believe it," I say as I skate up to him, "hockey was just never my thing."   
  
"Not your _thing_?!" He exclaims in shock as he skates up to me. "I don't know if this relationship will last if my girlfriend says hockey's not her _thing_." He takes the stick from my hands and skates away.   
  
"Hey!" I call out as I start to chase him. It's so clear that he's more adept with the skates than I am, since now he's turned himself around and is skating backwards so that he can taunt me face to face. "Give it!" I call out, stretching my arm in attempts to get my stick back.   
  
"Syd, I don't think we're meant to be together. I'm sorry to break up with you like this." He says in between laughs.   
  
"Mich--" Before I know what's going on, my ass lands on the ice with a thud. And damn how that thud hurt.   
  
"Oh God, Syd," Michael calls out, his voice filled with concern as he raced toward me. All of a sudden, I start laughing hysterically. He smiles as he leans down and offers a hand to pull me up. If there were really such a thing as a million dollar smile, his would certainly be it. "Silly, silly girl..." He says as I reach my hand towards his. My grin grows as I pull him down with me.   
  
"Silly, silly boy..." I say, unable to wipe the lovesick grin off my face as I lean towards him. Before either of us know it, we're making out like rabid animals in the middle of the Stuckeyville Ice Rink.  
  
I swear I whimper as Michael pulls his lips away from mine. I reach out and try to pull him back down, but he gets up, stifling a laugh as he looks over to the entrance, where Warren, Diane and Mark are standing. I quickly stand up, embarassed and grab Michael's hand.   
  
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say we just walked in on our teachers gettin' hot and heavy on the ice. And I'm not gonna lie, I'm a little creeped out," Mark says as he sits down and laces up his skates.   
  
"Aw, I think it's cute," Diane responds, smiling, "it's like you guys are back in high school or something."   
  
"Eh get a room," Warren scowls. I guess Warren hasn't quite moved on with his life...  
  
Michael laughs and wraps his arm around my waist. "Sorry about that guys."   
  
"You best be apologizin. I don't think my parents would condone such a blantant display of sexuality from anyone, my own teachers at that." Warren replies matter-of-factly as he skates out onto the ice.   
  
"Cheswick, since when did you give a crap about what your parents condone?" Mark retorts, following Warren and Diane on the ice.   
  
"Well, we're sorry for exposing you to such gratuitous sex but I hate to break it to you, Warren..." I lace my fingers with Michael's and lean towards the kids as we skate by them, "PG13 movies have far more than what you just walked in on."   
  
"Just goes to show you why the youth of America has such issues. Corrupted at such a young age. I don't think I'm going to take it any longer...In fact, I'm gonna write to my congressman." Geez, Warren can really get himself worked up over nothing, can't he?   
  
"You do that, Warren." Michael says, patting him on the back as we pass by them and get off the ice. "We'll see you guys in class tomorrow. _On time_." Geez, he's starting to sound like my sophmore year history teacher. Oh God, nasty mental image...Michael with a big bushy gray beard, slightly overweight and balding. For the love of God, why do I put myself through such torture.   
  
Fine, you got me. I'm slightly aroused by this image. Maybe I'll pick up a Santa costume one of these--  
  
GOOD LORD, NO!  
  
"Nice going, Cheswick." I hear Mark say, knocking Warren as Diane laughs while they start skating around and we sit down to take off our skates.   
  
"Shut up." Aww, poor Warren. I used to know guys like him in high school. They used to idealize girls and other teachers to unfulfillable levels and just follow them around like puppy dogs, becoming suddenly incoherent when any of them actually wanted to talk to him. We need to find Warren some good old fashioned lovin'. Someone that he's already comfortable with...  
  
Hell, who am I kidding. Warren isn't comfortable around _any_ girls.   
  
"Hey, Mikey," I say nonchalantly.   
  
"_What_ did you just call me?!"   
  
"Umm, Mikey...?" He sighs and laughs then puts his arm around me again.   
  
"I'll never get you, Bristow. But yeah, what's up."   
  
"Give Warren lessons."   
  
"Lessons in what?"   
  
"In how to get 'the ladies.'"   
  
"'The ladies'?"   
  
"Yes, the ladies. Clearly, you have mastered the art of getting action over the years, and I want you to teach a thing or two to Warren. Not like _sex_, but you know...Just so he's not always so nervous. It can't be healthy for someone to sweat that much just at the sight of a pretty girl or someone that they like."   
  
"And why, might I ask, is this coming up?"  
  
I shrug and look back out at the kids on the ice.   
  
"I don't know, it's just--I don't know. Warren's a good kid, and he shouldn't always feel like he's being rejected, ya know? And I think that maybe if he learns the 'tricks of the trade' per se, then maybe he'll gain the courage to talk to other girls and maybe get himself a cute little Warren girlfriend."   
  
"And by cute little Warren girlfriend, you of course mean a blow-up doll of you, right?"   
  
I laugh and push Michael lightly.   
  
"Okay, you're fantasies are creeping me out."   
  
"_My_ fantasies?! Why would I need to fantasize about that when I have the real thing?" He always thinks he can get off by seducing me with that lovely tongue of his, but it's not gonna work this time. No sir--  
  
Mmmmmm, Sydney likey minty Mikey.   
  
No! Why do I lack all willpower whatsoever when it comes to this man?!   
  
I push him away and plaster the best serious look I can on my face.   
  
"Come on, Michael. For me. Please." Cue puppy dog look...  
  
He rolls his eyes and puts his head in his hands. He looks up once more to see me still holding out strong with the look I have spent my whole life perfecting, and he finally gives in.   
  
"Fine, fine, but don't expect anything as dramatic as you expect to take place." He says as he stands up. I jump up excitedly into his arms.   
  
"Thank you, thank you, thank you." I say, giving him kisses in between each 'thank you.'   
  
"Eh, whatever." He mutters as we walk toward the exit. "I still don't get why you're so eager about this."   
  
I don't either. But hey, it'll be hella fun.   
  
"Just think of it as a project or something. To redesign the life of Mr. Warren Cheswick. Maybe you can get Will in on it too and it can be a bonding experience. Bonding _must_ ensue."   
  
He groans and shakes his head as we step outside.   
  
"Whatever you say. Because you clearly are the one who wears the pants in this relationship."   
  
"Damn straight, and don't you forget it."   
  
"It would be pretty tough to forget something as--"   
  
"So, what were _you_ like in high school, Mr. I'm-Too-Cool-To-Help-Out-A-Youth-In-Dire-Need-Of-A-Man-Makeover?"  
  
Dude, this is gonna be _so_ fun!  
  
---  
  
_Monday Morning_   
  
"Oh my God! Oh. My. God. OHMYGOD!" I can barely contain my excitement as I walk with Carol into Stuckeyville High.   
  
"My seniments _exactly_." She responds, grabbing my arm.   
  
Carol. And. Ed. Hooked. Up.   
Carol. And. Ed. Did. The. Nasty.   
ALL. NIGHT. LONG.   
  
Okay, so I may have embellished the story with that last one, but dude, you know they so did. But that's beside the point! Mr. and Mrs. Stuckeyville are _together_!  
  
"So, what was it like? What did you say? What did _he_ say?! Details, Carol! And pronto cuz I've got a class to be at in approximately, four minutes and 52 seconds."   
  
"Okay, okay, okay." She says quickly as we turn the corner. "Well it started at the park when they were playing basketball and I was like 'oh God' and he was like 'hey Carol, what's up' and I was like 'Ed, I think we need to talk.' Then we talked. And then we kissed. And then we went back to his place. And then we had sex like the animals that we are."   
  
Um, okay...? How...romantic...?  
  
"Yeah, clearly, you are in absolutely no state to speak or convey any emotions but post-coital bliss coherently, so I'll save this chat for a bit later." I say, laughing. Suddenly, my eye is caught by a new glittery poster adorning the bulletin board. "Spring Formal? Isn't it a little early for a Spring Formal?"   
  
"Oh yeah, it's a Stuckeyville High tradition to have the Spring Formal early. Don't ask me why, Stuckeyville-ians are odd folk." Carol responds as we make our way to her classroom.   
  
"I can certainly attest to that." I joke.   
  
Hmmm, Spring Formal. A month or so away. I think this gives Mikey plenty of time to tranform the Chez into a chick magnet. But him and will must move _fast_.  
  
"Aww, Syd, come here!" Carol calls out, getting misty eyed as she covers her mouth with her hand and motions to the flowers on her desk. "He got me _flowers_. FLOW-ERS." She plops down and pulls the card out, staring at it in wonder.   
  
I laugh and take a quick sniff before the bell rings.   
  
"Oh crap! I have a class to teach!" I call out as I'm halfway to the door. "You're gonna have to tell me everything at lunch. Don't leave out _anything_. And try to regain some coherency by then!"   
  
---  
  
"Okay, slow down there, little lady."   
  
The man works for the CIA and he can't even follow Giddy!Sydney. This is a sad, sad display. I sigh loudly, put my hands on my hips and roll my eyes.   
  
"Don't be showin' no sass girl."   
  
I stop dead in my tracks and stare at Michael with the most blank expression known to man before breaking out into a fit of hysterics.   
  
"Michael! You are _so_ not--Oh God, maybe I've gotten the wrong guy to do this for Warren. Before I know it he'll be telling people to stop 'talkin' sass' and he'll try to be ghetto, and you _know_ what a disaster that'll be when he tries to befriend the ghetto white boys...They'll beat him to a pulp!"   
  
Michael laughs, and the sound of it breaks me out of character. Dammit. I still am at a loss for will power.   
  
"Okay, okay. I get it. No more. What's the deal?"   
  
"Okay, first things first." I say, walking up to his desk and placing my hands on them so that I can lean my head closer to his.   
  
"Spring Formal. March fifth."   
  
"Aw, Sydney, are you asking me if I'll go to the Spring Formal with you? I don't know what to tell you, I'm flattered, but Cindy Jenkins already asked me and I said yes. Maybe another time though."   
  
"Michael!"   
  
"Ouch, not one much for the witty sarcasm you usually seem to love to so much, are we?"  
  
"No, we're not. We've got business at hand."   
  
"Isn't March fifth a little early for a Spring Formal? It'll be freezing." He starts leafing through his papers and pulls out a red pen to start grading. Here I am trying to have a heart to heart with him, and he goes Mr. Kotter on my ass. Where are we, a school?!  
  
Wait, scratch that.   
  
"Michael. Listen to me. Clearly you aren't making the connections that your usually astute mind picks up. There will be a Spring Formal, March fifth. Get it so far."   
  
He looks at me and shakes his head in disgust. Fine then, be that way.  
  
"You," I point to him, "and Will," I step back and put a goofy grin on my face and pretend to be writing on the newspaper he has on his desk.   
  
"Ooh, I love charades. Journalist!"   
  
"Yeah!" I point to him and give him a triumphant high five. "Are going. To give. Warren. Cheswick. The ultimate man-makeover. By the time kids start looking around for dates."   
  
He looks up, shakes his head, and looks at me confused. "Sorry, Syd, I stopped paying attention when the charades stopped coming. I rock chrarades like no other."   
  
I smack his head lightly as he starts to laugh.  
  
"Silly, silly boy." I say, shaking my head as I sit back down in one of his students' desks.   
  
"Wait a second here, Syd. Do you think it's really so smart to first of all, spring this up on poor Warren out of the blue? I mean, what do you expect us to say, 'Hey dude, your style and your personality kinda sucks. We're gonna change it and make it so that girls like you and so that you're less nervous around them. Because, you know it, we know it, you can't get a girl for your life.'"   
  
"Geez, that was harsh."   
  
"No! That's what I'm saying! What are we supposed to do here that won't make us out to be the bad guys! And what do you want us to do? Totally change his personality so that he'll suddenly be attractive? That's just not right. Warren should be who he wants to be, and whether people like that or not, it's their problem."   
  
"No, Michael, I'm not saying that. Just trust me on this one. I see Warren everyday in English, and I know for a fact that if you and Will just went up to him one day and started a conversation about school, girls...the dance...He'd open up to you guys. He really likes you, Michael, and if you extend a hand and offer to help him out, he'll take it and he won't be in the least bit insulted. I'm not saying you should go and completely change his personality and his style. I guess "man-makeover" wasn't the best term--"   
  
"But bravo for coining it, nonetheless."   
  
"Thank you. But yeah, I'm just saying help him gain some confidence. I don't know what that will entail but just help him out. How much would you have loved it if two stylish thirty-something guys came up to you when you were in high school and told you to that the mullet _had_ to go? And then became friends with you? So that you'd have someone to talk to that had been through the same experiences and could help you out and make your high school experience, which for most people sucks ass, a Hell of a lot better?"   
  
Michael sighs and stands up, making his way towards me.   
  
"Sydney, I don't know what has gotten into you," he says, leaning on my desk, "but you're right. And I'll do it."   
  
I smile and wrap my arms around him, bringing him down for a kiss.   
  
"But Will??" He asks, as we part.   
  
"Yes. Will." I respond, grinning.   
  
"Okay, fine," he says with a hint of attitude. He walks back to his desk and puts all his papers and books into his shoulder bag and picks it up. I stand up, walk over to him and grasp his hand.   
  
"So, did you hear about Ed and Carol?" I ask excited to spread the good news.   
  
"No, what happened?"   
  
"Let's just say that there might just be some little Ed and Carols running around Stuckeyville Day Care in no time..."   
  
Michael stops in his tracks and turns to me with a shocked expression on his face.   
  
"He asked her to marry him?! They're getting married?! They haven't even gotten together and they're getting _married_?! I'm one of Ed's best friends and he didn't even tell me...Wait, how can they be getting married?!"   
  
Sometimes, I just wonder how on Earth he became an Agent.   
  
I shake my head sadly.   
  
"No, my dear Michael. I'll have to be sure not to use hyperbole when I talk to you, and instead speak absolutely literally. They finally got together. And by 'got together' I mean _got TOGether_."   
  
His eyes light up like a kid in a candy shop.   
  
Two words: Double. Dates.   
  
Weeee!  
  
**END CHAPTER NINETEEN**


	20. Carry On Will and Vaughn's Surrogate Son

**Chapter Twenty - Carry on Vaughn and Will's Surrogate Son**   
  
_Carry on my wayward son,   
For there'll be peace when you are done   
Lay your weary head to rest   
Now don't you cry no more   
  
"Carry On My Wayward Son," Foo Fighters_   
  
( )   
  
[Vaughn's POV]   
  
  
How in God's name am I supposed to do this? I mean, really. My brain is just incapable of comprehending such craziness. I have absolutely no clue how any of this will possibly take shape and I have no idea how it will result in any good whatsoever.   
  
But I have to do it. So what's the use in bitching and moaning about something that I have to do, regardless of whether I want to or not.   
  
But Mikey wants to bitch and moan! This isn't fairrrrrrrrrr.   
  
I'm so Sydney's b-tch. But whatever. Being Syd's b-tch/man ho is a good life. A good life indeed.   
  
Okay, I might as well break this down into mission objectives. Obviously, my reward upon completing the mission is getting laid. But what else is new? That's what it always comes down to. That should be my first lesson to the eager Cheswick. I could just see it now...  
  
_Young man, if there's one thing in life you should always hold above everything else, it's the fact that everything you ever do for a woman should be done in order to get the one thing all men want. Nookie._  
  
Yes, Syd would absolutely love it if she found out that I "do it all for the nookie." Oh good lord, somebody please slap some sense into me. I'm really not this shallow, I swear. There's more to Michael Vaughn than my innermost thoughts are revealing. I really do care about personality and intellect and...  
  
Okay, here's the real deal. I figure I spend the first year and a half plus of my "relationship" with Sydney getting to know who she is and what she's all about. And I wouldn't trade that time in for the world. That's why we were able to connect so quickly once we got here. But on the other hand, now I have a year and half plus of sex to make up.   
  
I just need to shut up. I swear, I'm really not such a sexaholic.   
  
I swear!  
  
Okay, how did we get on such a tangent? I have no clue. What was I talking about? Before the sex and sh-t? Ah yes, mission objectives. I must break this down into mission objectives. So I'm here at the Goat waiting for Will to meet with me. Syd set it up, and I'm hoping she already filled him in, because I don't know how in the Hell I'd explain her insane plan to him withouit seeming extremely homosexual.  
  
_Oh my God, Will, this is gonna be SO FUN! We're gonna, like, make over Warren and we'll get to go SHOPPING for him and give him like...A MAKEOVER! Weeeeeee!_  
  
So we need two plans. Plan A is assuming that Will doesn't know about the plan. That would entail me finding a somehow reasonable way to explain this whole thing to him, placing all the responsibility with Sydney of course, then we'd have to go to the Stuckeybowl, where Warren will be, then sit him down and give him his first lessons.   
  
Oh lordy.   
  
If Will already knows about the background and crap, I'll put Plan B into action. Plan B is essentially Plan A without the first step. So instead of thinking of some explanation, I would be required to make small talk with Will Tippen. How fun. This is EXACTLY how I wanted to spend my Friday night. Knowing Will, this probably _is_ how he'd like to spend his Friday night. Will is an odd character. Indeed he is.   
  
"Hey, Mike," I look up and see Will taking a seat in the chair across from me at the table.   
  
"Oh, hey Will," I say, with a hint of exasperation. Will better get the point that I don't want to be here because I will not be happy if I have to spend the evening with a giddy Tippin thinking that I'm here to bond with him out of my own free will. "Did Syd fill you in on what's gonna be going down tonight?"   
  
"You mean with Warren?" He asks, leaning his arms on the table. I nod. "Yeah, she did. I think it's a great idea! Warren's such a great kid and he deserves to have atleast one good year out of his high school 'career' as they call it. I know what it's like to have to go through the Hell that is high school in his shoes, and it really isn't fun."   
  
As I stand up, I can't help but feel a little bit regretful about being so anti-Will for as long as I have been. From his body language and expressions, I take it he didn't really have a great high school experience. That's probably why Syd wanted us to do this together...So it could be some sort of redemption for him.   
  
I'll admit, he didn't turn out half bad. He's a good guy, I'll give him that.   
  
"I'm sorry, man," I say, patting Will's back as we make our way to the door. "I think this is a good idea and all, but how are we going to approach this? Shouldn't we come up with some sort of gameplan or something. I mean, we can't just go up to the kid and be like 'you have problems, we're gonna fix 'em.'"   
  
Will laughs and shakes his head. "I have no idea. I have absolutely no idea. If we're lucky, Warren will come to us--"   
  
As if on cue, Warren rushes through the doors and nearly bumps into us.   
  
"Oh thank God I got to you guys before you left. I saw you when I was crossing the street and I was going to--Okay, lemme just come out and say this because there's no use in being nervous and sweaty and incoherent around two of the--"  
  
Damn, this kid really does need help. I think the focus of our session today will be social skills. Because once he gets the social skills down, everything else will come. That's definitely gonna be the focus of today.   
  
"Spit it out, Warren." I say impatiently.   
  
"I need both of your help." He says pointing to me and Will.   
  
I turn to Will and give him a discreet smile, and he stifles a laugh. He so wasted a wishing moment. He should have wished for a million dollars or something instead of for Warren coming to us first. But what more would you expect from Will.   
  
This should be interesting.   
  
---  
  
[Warren's POV]  
  
I've got a little more than a month, and there's no way I'm going to this Spring Formal alone. And no, I won't make the foolish mistake that I made freshman year and hire an escourt service, because we all know that didn't quite turn out the way I hoped for it to. I'm gonna ask a girl out.  
  
But the only way I'm gonna be able to ask a girl out and not get laughed at in my face is to hone in on my weaknesses and transform myself into the ultimate paragon of popularity. Sure, I know it's shallow, but I'm not gonna graduate from this school without having atleast one memorable dance. And if I have to completely change myself to do so, I'm gonna damn well do it.   
  
Plus, I'm not talking about changing who I really am, I'm just talking about looks. Stuff like that. Oh yeah, and preferrably controlling my frighteningly grotesque perspiration problem. I might have to turn to perscription deoderants. How pleasant.   
  
Wait, back to the topic at hand. I need to be transformed, and who better to mold my impressionable young mind than Mr. Saunders and Syd's trusty friend Will.   
  
Mr. Saunders? The sheer fact that he has all the girls in his class swooning would normally be reason enough, but clearly he's a sex God. What else would explain the spell he's able to cast over women-folk. It's unlike anything I have ever seen, and if I'm lucky, he'll pass that lovely trait to me. And Will...Will's a nice guy and I figure he's a young guy, handsome, smart...It wouldn't hurt to have two times the coolness give me what I've been in dire need of since grade five.   
  
Score! They're both right there at the Goat as we speak! I'm telling you this rabbit's foot is good luck. So what if I've been wearing it everyday since the third grade, and it's never given me luck. If anything, it's given me _bad_ luck. But that's not the point. The point is that now at this very moment it has given me good luck and I have to go sieze the opportunity!  
  
I run over to the Goat and almost crash into Will and Mr. Saunders as they're leaving.   
  
Oh sh-t. What am I supposed to say?   
  
_You guys are my heroes and I really need you both to teach me everything you know about women so I can please, for the love of God, get laid before I graduate high school? Who am I kidding...College??_   
  
Before I realize what's going on around me, Mr. Saunders is telling me to spit it out and I'm not quite sure what I should say.   
  
I calm myself down and point to them both seriously, "I need both of your help."   
  
---  
  
[Vaughn's POV]   
  
_On the way to The Stuckeybowl_  
  
"So you guys were planning on seeking me out and giving me some advice anyway? How cool is that?!" Warren exclaims excitedly.   
  
"Yup," Will replies, nodding his head. "Mike here was telling me about how he saw the sign for the Spring Formal in the hall and thought that this would be the perfect uh...Birthday gift for you."   
  
"But my birthday's not until July." Warren says, confused.   
  
Foolish, Will. Foolish, foolish, Will.   
  
"Half birthday." I add, proud of myself for improvising so well on the whim.   
  
"Sweet! Usually teachers give you like candy bars or something on your half birthday, but I get to be molded into the ultimate high school student. What more could a guy ask for?!"   
  
Warren is far too giddy about this for his own good. I mean, really. We aren't like deities or something, and it might take a little more than a little bit of advice by us to help him get a date to this thing. And I've got my eye on this kid. Knowing him, he'll try desperately to ask Syd out, and we all know what a no-no that is. No-no with big n's and big o's. NO-NO.  
  
"So is Ed in on this, too? Because, just between us guys, I don't think Ed's quite the guy to go for for this kind of stuff. I mean, being rejected by the same woman for three straight years...What a loser!" Warren starts faux-cracking up and me and Will just stare at him like the lunatic he is. "Oooo-kay, sore subject."   
  
"No, Ed's not gonna be in on this little plan. He went out to dinner with everyone else, but he said we could use his office." I reply, already growing tired of this boy's seemingly infinate supply of excitement.   
  
"Score, I like offices."   
  
He likes offices.   
  
"I know that we haven't offically started this little...I don't even know what to call it..." I say shaking my head, "but I figure it doesn't hurt to give you a tip now anyway."  
  
"Okay, awesome, but hold on a second." He reaches back into his bag and pulls out a notepad and a pen. "Okay, shoot."   
  
I look at him strangely, but continue, nonetheless. "Don't be so eager to please, Warren. It makes you come off as a little...Desperate. I know that's harsh, but...Do you know what I mean? Have a backbone, take a stand, express your opinion...If you don't want to be in Ed's office tonight, just _say it_!"   
  
"Don't...be...eager...to...please. Okay, what else did you say? Umm...Have backbone...Take stand...Express opinion...Example: Ed's office exchange." He writes furiously but gasps as Will snatches the pad from him and throws it into the trash. Thank God, this man is good for something. "Hey! I paid three bucks for that at Rite Aid!"   
  
"Well, you shouldn't have." Will says as he holds open the door and me and Warren walk into the Stuckeybowl with Will not too far behind us.   
  
"Binky, Slims...What's up?" Phil asks, approaching me.   
  
Whaaa??  
  
"Excuse me? Did you just call me 'Binky'?" I ask, highly confused.   
  
"And me Slims?!" Will adds.   
  
"Hey! I want a cool nickname! Can I be...Jon??" This is gonna be a long night.   
  
"Jon?" Even Phil is confused. You know you've reached unparalleled levels of craziness when Phil doesn't even get you.   
  
"Binky...Binky the Clown...Garfield...Jon, Garfield's owner. Get it??" Warren asks Phil excitedly, but Phil just stares at him with a look of pure disgust on his face, then suddenly bursts out into laughter.   
  
"Funny kid!" He laughs, giving Warren a few fake punches before walking away muttering something about how Warren was the next Conan O'Brien under his breath.   
  
"Okay, that was interesting." I say as I lead the way to Ed's office.   
  
Everyone files in and I close the door behind them and take a seat at Ed's desk.   
  
"Hey, why do you get the comfortable chair behind the desk?" Will asks, dare I say...Pouting??  
  
"Ed's my best friend. He's not here. I get to sit in the chair. As simple as that." I reply with a hint of annoyance.   
  
"Okay, guys, let's get at it. I am but a glob of clay and you two are the sculptors. Transform this unkempt mound into Michaelangelo's David. Or better yet, Mike-Will's Warren."   
  
Like I said, this is gonna be a long night.  
  
---  
  
"What about a beard?" Warren asks, looking into the mirror, stroking his chin.   
  
It's only been an hour and I already want to gouge my eyes and ears out with this pencil. The kid's a good kid, he's nice, and smart, and occasionally funny, but I don't know if I can take such a high concentration of him at once.   
  
"I don't think so, man." Will says, exasperatedly.   
  
"I would have said a moustache...Just look at Burt Reynolds, it worked wonders for him...But I figured mustaches are out, and beards? Beards are sooooo in."   
  
"Warren, I don't think you're ready for that kind of leap."  
  
All of a sudden the door flies open and Shirley and Phil are standing in the doorway.   
  
"Hair is in." Shirley says simply, then proceeds to stare at us like a deer caught in the headlights.   
  
"You know what's even more in, Jon? Chest hair. If there's one thing that girls find undeniably sexy it's a full, rich layer of chest hair on a man's...chest."   
  
Kill me now. Just kill me now. Or better yet, no, because I don't want my last thought from this life to be a mental image of Phil's untamed forest of chest hair. How lovely.   
  
"Warren, don't listen to him," I look up as I hear Will's voice and see Warren taking a glimpse down his shirt then looking back up with a sad expression on his face.   
  
I point to Phil and Shirley and mouth "you two, out." Phil gives me a thumb's up then they scurry out and close the door behind them.   
  
"The beard it out, okay, dude? It's just not going to suit you well, trust me." Will says, walking over to Warren.   
  
"But it suits you."   
  
"I don't have a beard. i'm just too lazy to shave everyday."   
  
"Then that's what I need to do, I need to be too lazy to shave everyday. I want the sexy stubble! Please let me have the sexy stubble!!" The boy is whining about wanting a sexy stubble. What has the world come to?   
  
"Okay fine, don't shave. We've got two more important things to discuss. First, style." I start, picking up a pencil from Ed's desk and playing around with it.   
  
"What's wrong with my style?"   
  
"Nothing's wrong with your style," I say quickly, "but sometimes you may want to put more consideration into what you wear. Dress nicely. A girl can't say no to a well dressed guy."   
  
"Yeah, Mike's right, but remember, don't be _too_ stylish. You don't want to outshine your date. And you definitely don't want to make it seem like you spend hours in front of the mirror everday. No girl wants to go out with a guy that she thinks takes longer than her to get ready for a date."   
  
"You can never spend too much time getting ready," I just had to add that in, because sure, Will may go for the 'I'm stylish and put a lot of thought into what I wear but it doesn't seem like it' look, but knowing Warren, that won't go over so well.  
  
Will looks at me, then back at Warren. Yeah, you best be looking away, boy.   
  
"But each guy has his own style, Mike has his, I have mine, you'll just have to find your own."   
  
"Okay, cool, cool," Warren says, pacing in front of the desk. "What about sports? Are sports really that important?"   
  
"Well, it may have been different when I was in high school, but it really didn't matter, girls tended to like the well-rounded and well-adjusted guy. As long as you're interesting and fun to hang out with, and most of all not nervous and figetey and uncomfortable, it should be fine."   
  
"Well, did you play any sports in high school?" Warren asks, deep in thought.  
  
"Um, yeah, but what does that matter--"   
  
"And so did you, Mr. Saunders...But it's too late for me to join--"   
  
"Warren, trust me, you'll be fine. Just keep in mind everything we talked about today, and if you ever need any help or any thing, just ask us. That's what we're here for. Just think of us as your friends." I of course said this with extreme caution, knowing full well what the repurcussions of such a statement could be, but lucky me, Warren appeared to be thinking about something else altogether.   
  
"Yeah," Will added, "that's what we're here for."   
  
Suddenly, Warren looked up excitedly like a lightbulb just went off in his head.   
  
"I might just might take you up on that...You know how to play hockey, right, Mr. Saunders?"   
  
Oh. Crap.  
  
**END CHAPTER TWENTY**


End file.
